


I’m Here Wishing You Could Stay a Little Longer

by Orange17



Series: Truck Stop [1]
Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: A little dark and gloomy, Angst, Even Smaller Town AU, F/F, Mild Smut, Truckers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-20
Updated: 2018-10-29
Packaged: 2019-04-25 05:56:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 20,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14372367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Orange17/pseuds/Orange17
Summary: In full transparency if you’re looking for something light and fluffy this definitely isn’t it. I’m not sure if dark is really the word that best sums it up—gloomy angst, maybe?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> In full transparency if you’re looking for something light and fluffy this definitely isn’t it. I’m not sure if dark is really the word that best sums it up—gloomy angst, maybe?

With a shaky breath, Nicole answered the knock at the door, one thought in her mind: _here we go again._

Automatically, as she had done too many times to count, she stood to the side as she twisted the lock and pulled the door open.

As Waverly pushed through the opening, not pausing on her path to the kitchen, Nicole inhaled a combination of whiskey, coffee, and every greasy item the diner cooked.  

“Shots and beers are on the counter,” the redhead stated, gently closing the door and locking the deadbolt.

“It’s like you knew I was coming,” Waverly called over her shoulder with a wink.

“Y’know, Miss Earp, you are a tad predictable.”

Nicole followed the brunette down the hallway to the small kitchen in her apartment. 

She thought today was leading here from the moment she stepped into the diner on her lunch break. As Nicole strode to her usual barstool, the brunette waitress rushed around the restaurant, shoulders tense, tone slightly more subdued than its typical cheerful notes.    

But she _knew_ tonight would end with Waverly at her place when the waitress came closer to take her order, eyes clouded and far away; a clear indicator that the the brunette would want to crawl into her sheets to forget. 

“How many do you want?” Waverly asked, eyeing the two filled shot glasses, as she twisted the cap off one of the beer bottles.

“Just one.”

The redhead wasn’t much of a drinker, or rather hadn’t been until the last few months. 

It felt like a lifetime ago that she sat in the office for her interview, removed from grease and oil of the shop. Her knee anxiously bounced as she waited for the owner to arrive, mind racing through explanations for why she was fired from her last job. She wasn’t sure how appropriate the honest answer would be, having been caught with the owner’s daughter in the backseat of her boss’s precious 1969 Corvette.

Instead, she was only asked one question: _have you ever been lonely?_

In hindsight, it was probably the only question they needed to ask her. Though maybe, _are you crazy?_ would’ve been appropriate as well.

Truckers had nicknamed this place “Purgatory.” The first time Nicole heard it over the CB radio in the shop, she couldn’t help but feel no name was more applicable when you're at least 300 miles removed from the nearest city regardless of whether you traveled east or west on the highway.

For those heading west, the howling wind was at their backs, saving driver’s precious fuel and time; but traveling east was, well, hell. Hell on white-knuckled drivers fighting to keep their big rigs within the lines. Hell on the engines of those trucks. Hell on any kind of schedule. Hell on gas mileage.

Those who were lucky would escape with a flat tire, having rolled over some debris blown onto the roadway, or maybe a broken light. Less fortunate would be hood up, engine failing under the strain of maintaining speed against the forceful current.

Even though her last job was in a small-town, there was no doubt that “small” didn’t quite do this place justice. If Nicole had to guess, maybe 40 people resided here in this truck stop town, if you included the more reliable drifters. All were there for one purpose: to service the truckers on their way through. The redhead was just grateful she only handled their trucks.

In spite of the population size, Nicole didn’t think she would be nearly as lonely as she was, if it weren’t for the waitress’s occasional company.

Her gaze lifted to Waverly’s lips, locked around her beer bottle, draining half of it in one swig.

“You sure?” the brunette asked, setting down the bottle and trading it for one of the shot glasses.

“Actually, make it two,” Nicole sighed, rubbing the back of her neck to hide the nervous twitch of her fingers.

It didn’t matter how many times they had done this song and dance; the shorter woman never failed to bring out her jittery side. 

“I’m a great influence, I know,” Waverly smirked, tossing back her shot of whiskey.

A burn radiated down the back of Nicole’s throat, as she mirrored the brunette’s actions. She hastily grabbed the second beer, twisting the top off to chase the liquor.

Waverly teased as she refilled the small tumblers from the bottle on the counter, “Amateur.”

Draining her second shot, Waverly’s nose and forehead scrunched as she refilled the glass again, “Do you really want to watch a movie?”  

“Not particularly,” Nicole lied, sipping her beer. “Did you have something else in mind?”

It was the first time in awhile the redhead had tried to turn their evenings together into something more than just drawing pleasure from each other. 

Months ago, when this was all still new and Waverly had visited her apartment only once, Nicole suggested they have dinner. To her dismay, the waitress came over with a take-out box from the diner.

_“Didn’t you bring anything for yourself?” Nicole had asked, subtly turning off the preheating oven as Waverly wrapped her lips around a bottle of beer, draining most of it in one swallow. “I can make you something.”_

_“No, I think I’ll_ eat _something else.”_

Blinking back to the present, the redhead watched as Waverly drained her beer, before stepping closer.

“What do you think I came here for?” the brunette purred.

Nicole’s stomach dropped as Waverly curled her fingers around her belt. Setting her barely touched beer on the counter, the redhead’s hands loosely grasped the shorter woman’s hips.

“Hmm,” Nicole hummed, “no clue.”

As the wind howled, the mechanic felt a light tug on her belt buckle. 

“Then let me show you.”

Automatically, Nicole’s hands drifted up, sliding underneath the hem of Waverly’s uniform shirt. The redhead felt her resolve crash to the floor with familiar, soft, tantalizing skin under her fingertips as her belt loosened.

Looking into darkened hazel eyes, her hands continued their journey up taut sides, as Waverly’s fingers twisted in the hem of her shirt. The brunette shivered as Nicole’s thumbs brushed under the cups of the shorter woman’s bra.

Nicole leaned closer, eyes unblinking as she searched the depths of hazel eyes. Somehow, they were different than all the times Waverly had come here before, seeking the distraction of touch.

As much as Nicole longed to ask what was on the brunette’s mind, other than the obvious, she had learned Waverly would deflect away any questions. Her mind wandered back to one of the last times she ventured into personal topics with the waitress, as they cuddled up on Nicole’s couch watching a hockey game.

_“How long have you been here?” Nicole asked, breaking the silence that filled the room in the three minutes since they had sat down in front of the tv._

_“Hmm awhile, but not nearly as long as some other folks.”_

_The redhead tilted her head to the side taking in the comment. Waverly was brilliant. This bright, intuitive young woman could do amazing things anywhere in the world; instead, she was in Purgatory._

_“Have you ever thought about leaving?”_

_Nicole felt nimble fingers loosen from their hold on the fabric of her t-shirt and slide down. Her stomach dropped as she felt a tug on her belt._

_“Do you want me to leave?” Waverly purred in her ear._

_Nicole twisted, murmuring “God no,” before connecting their lips._

A devious smirk etched across Waverly’s eyes and mouth, as Nicole felt the button on her jeans pop open.

“Bed?” the redhead asked, head tilting slightly to the side.

“I thought you’d never ask.”

\--

Rough kisses and discarded clothes later, the pair were in Nicole’s bed, the waitress beneath the mechanic.

As her hands wandered over skin, Nicole’s lips brushed the brunette’s ear, whispering, “What do you want, baby?”

The redhead continued down, lips kissing a line to Waverly’s collarbone.

“You…everywhere…” Waverly panted, “…don’t…want…to… _think_.”

Nicole felt a smirk spread across her face as the last word escaped Waverly’s lips as a moan. Or she smirked as well as she could as her tongue swiped and swirled around a pert nipple.

The mechanic took her time, as she always did, moving her fingers and lips across the brunette’s skin leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. Just how long it took she wasn’t sure; the redhead having removed the alarm clock from the nightstand long ago when she couldn’t take her eyes off of it as she worried away the minutes until her bed would be cold again.

As she slid slightly off of the waitress, Nicole’s hand drifted from a hipbone to Waverly’s inner thigh. The redhead bit back the question that she so yearned to ask, wanting to confirm that this was okay. Her mind flashed back to weeks and weeks ago, when the brunette giggled “really?!” at that particular inquiry, disbelief etched across her face from her raised eyebrows to the smirk on her lips.

Swallowing those, normally so important, words, Nicole’s hand slid further, inching along until the tip of her finger found silky, warm, wet folds.

As it had, every time they did this dance, a gasp escaped the redhead’s lips. A dejected pang reverberated through Nicole: if only the smaller woman was so ready for her in other ways.

\--

Nicole sleepily rolled to her left, arm reaching across the bed. A sigh escaped her lips as she came up empty-handed.

Though she knew better, Nicole’s chest had filled with desperate hope that the brunette would stay. It wasn’t the first time she had been this naïve. More often than not, the dejection was followed up with tears into her pillow as she tried to relieve the ache in her chest.

Behind her still-closed eyes, she felt the tell-tale prickle at the corner of her eyes and lump in her throat forming. Fighting to hold back the building emotions, a muffled sob escaped her lips.

“Shit.”

Nicole stiffened and pulled her eyes open. In the darkened room, she could make out the faint outline of Waverly, hunched over, shoulders tucked inward.   

“Waves,” Nicole breathed, “you’re still here.”

It was too early for the redhead to tame the hopeful note in her voice.

“Yeah, sorry, I’m going…” Waverly replied, hurriedly stepping into her skirt.

Nicole hurriedly sat up, “No, no…that’s not what I meant. It’s too early, come back to bed…stay...please.”

Her voice cracked on that last word.

“You know I can’t, Nic,” Waverly answered; even in the darkness, the redhead could see the brunette’s eyes focused on fastening the button to her skirt.

“Why not?” the redhead pouted.

The waitress sifted through the remaining clothes on the floor, “I just can’t…”

“Then maybe I can’t do this anymore.”

The words escaped Nicole’s lips before they crossed her mind.

Waverly stiffened, “What?”

Though her stomach twisted, and a part of her heart longed to take those words back, she knew it was true. This…whatever this was…wasn’t what she wanted.

“Waverly, I…I want more than this…I want you.”

She wanted laughing together at silly movies, holding hands, slow kisses that weren’t in a hurry to go anywhere fast, cuddly mornings…

The brunette scoffed, “What more is there? You’ve touched every inch of me.”

“That’s not what I mean,” Nicole stated, shaking her head, twisting out of the sheets to kneel on the edge of the bed, closer to Waverly. “I want…I want more than sex. I want to really know you. Really _be with you_ instead of just touching you…I’ve tried, I’ve tried so damn hard, to pretend like I’m okay with this, but I feel like I’m missing out on the rest.”

Nicole looked at the woman in front of her: jaw slack, eyes wide, shoulders tense.

“Waverly, please say something.”

“I—I…that’s not what I want Nicole. I’m sorry. This is all I can give you.”

“Oh.”

The redhead’s stomach churned, and tears obscured her vision.

“Then, I think we’re done,” Nicole stated, fighting the lump in her throat.

“We can’t do this anymore?”

The redhead shook her head, not trusting her voice as she saw silent tears trickle down Waverly’s face.

“You _cannot_ be serious.”

“I’m sorry,” Nicole stammered, losing the battle with her emotions.

“Oh!” Waverly huffed, pulling a shirt over her head. “You’re sorry! Well, that makes a difference.”

“I think it does,” Nicole mumbled.

The brunette stormed toward the door, untangling her purse from Nicole’s shirt, “It doesn’t!”

The sleeve of Nicole’s shirt caught in Waverly’s feet, and the smaller woman tumbled to the floor, contents of her purse spilling across the bedroom floor.

“Shit. Waverly, are you okay?”

A cry escaped the waitress’s lips.

Nicole scrambled off the bed, hurrying to her feet.

Waverly’s head lifted at the movement, and she startled into an upright position.

“No! Stop, I’m f—fine.”

Stilling at the shorter woman’s words, Nicole helplessly watched as Waverly hastily scooped items back into her purse.

Eyes on the floor, as she rose to her feet, Waverly mumbled, “Goodbye Nicole.”

The waitress turned, leaving through the still-open bedroom door.

“Waverly, wait.”

But she didn’t. Nicole could hear footsteps retreat down the hallway and the front door slam shut.

The mechanic fell back into her bed, emotion crashing over her.

\--

Muscles sore and throat raw, Nicole stretched out of the ball she had curled into, dragging herself out of bed to the shower.

Shuffling to her bedroom door, she paused as a white plastic card caught her eye. Brow furrowed, the redhead bent down and picked it up.

A lump quickly returned to her throat when she flipped it to see Waverly’s face pictured across half of her driver’s license. Her eyes hastily scanned the photo, missing the real thing, and catch on yesterday’s date stamped across the ID.

Tears slipped from her eyes, down her cheeks, as she sobbed, “Happy birthday Waverly.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two confessions:
> 
> 1\. I never, ever, thought I’d write anything close to smut when I first started writing on here. I imagined it would end up like [Peterotica](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4MtLLkTtWJs). But I couldn’t get this idea out of my head. So, if it’s horrible, please tell me and I won’t subject you guys to this again :)
> 
> 2\. I am told I have horrible taste in music and the song that helped prod this along (and one of the lyrics ended up being the title when I couldn't think of anything) is an example of that: “Stay a Little Longer” by Brothers Osbourne. This song gets stuck in my head way too easily and then things like this happen. Apparently.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m baaaaack. 
> 
> If you’re reading this, THANK YOU for sticking with me. I’m unsure how regularly I’ll be posting because this took me a painfully long amount of time to get through, but I’m writing...regardless of how slow it’s going. 
> 
> A huge thank you to both [LuckyWantsToKnow](https://twitter.com/moxiepurzell) and [Trash_PandaTO](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trash_PandaTO/) for not only betaing this, but for being generally awesome, supportive, and helping to get me out of my own head.

Waverly wrapped her arms around her middle hoping to block out the ever-howling wind, and cursed herself for leaving her jacket in her Jeep the night before.

She _hated_ the wind because she hated how its gusts carried a chill that consistently lingered in the air, no matter the season.

When she was new to town she tried to fight it, but it was fruitless. The biting force managed to cut through the fabric of her clothes, seeping beneath her skin and into her bones regardless of how many layers she wore. So she gave up, instead hemming her uniform shirts to ensure, at the very least, a sliver of her stomach was always on display; knowing more tips meant she could afford to crank the heat in her apartment in an attempt to fend off the cold.

Even that was futile as she spent most nights shivering, tossing and turning beneath a pile of blankets.

Waverly ran the last few steps to her Jeep, hurried inside, and quickly slammed the door behind her. Though the interior was chilly, and the wind caused her small vehicle to sway from side-to-side, the gusts didn’t cut through the steel.

With a reluctant sigh, she tried, and failed, to prevent her mind from wandering back to Nicole improving the seal on the hard-top on one of the mechanic’s off-days a few weeks ago. Though the redhead refused to accept any amount of cash Waverly shoved her way, the brunette made sure to show Nicole just how much she _appreciated_ the work later that night.

The memory alone caused a fleeting warmth to course through her body as she shrugged into her jacket. She hissed and shuddered as the cold material touched her skin, wishing she hadn’t left Nicole’s bed.

Her brow furrowed slightly as Nicole’s voice echoed in her ears: _come back to bed…stay...please_.

It was tempting: marching back to the mechanic’s apartment, banging on the door until it opened so Waverly could take Nicole up on her request.

Because Nicole, and her bed, were always warm.

The mechanic’s presence was an enigma, albeit a welcome one. Since the redhead moved to Purgatory, the cold seemed to dissipate for the first time since the brunette came to town.

Waverly felt her eyes slip closed, as she imagined trailing her fingers across warm, pale skin; Nicole’s muscles jumping at her touch.

Her hand unconsciously moved to the door handle as her desire to rejoin the mechanic in her bed grew.

Before she could move, her imagination was interrupted by an unwelcome memory.

Her dad’s voice echoed through her mind: _Waverly_ , he had grumbled first thing in the morning on more than one occasion, as he tore through the small kitchenette in the truck’s cab looking for a bottle of whiskey that wasn’t empty, _when you’re old enough to spend the night in someone else’s company, have the **decency** to leave before they wake up. Trust me, they don’t want to see you in the morning light._

Eyes snapping open, the brunette fumbled for her keys and shoved them hastily in the ignition. Once her old Jeep’s engine rumbled to life, she peeled out of her parking spot, sending gravel flying, before she could make a mistake by returning to Nicole.

Waverly’s foot pushed the gas pedal lower, and she sped past her apartment, knowing the cold, quiet place was the last place she wanted to be.

As she reached her destination, her eyes watered from the diner’s flickering neon lights cutting through the darkness. Even though she wasn’t due at work for hours, the waitress whipped her Jeep into a parking spot out front. She killed the engine and pulled her jacket closer around her as she hurried to the door, eager to get out of the wind.

As she entered the diner, her eyes immediately scanned the barstools and booths as they had every time for the past year. Waverly’s heart sunk as she took in three unfamiliar faces and one local scattered around the dining room.

Fueled by the anger and disappointment that rose in her throat, the brunette marched to the counter. The toe of her boots just crossed the invisible line that separated the dining room from the staff side, when Gus pushed open the door to the kitchen, drying her hands on a rag.

Waverly froze instantly under her boss’s stern gaze.

“What do you think you’re doing here, girl?”

“Um, I just, um, needed some coffee,” Waverly stammered, flashing her winningest smile.

“Sit,” Gus ordered, dropping her rag and turning toward the coffee pots.

Waverly turned on her heel and plopped on the closest stool.

“Regular or decaf?”

“Regular,” the brunette replied absentmindedly, digging into her purse for her phone. “Extra hot, I don’t mind the burn.”

She didn’t bother to look up at the hollow thud of ceramic meeting laminate as she continued to sift through the disheveled mess in her bag.

“ _What_ did you say?” Gus clipped.

“Extra hot,” Waverly repeated, arm still elbow deep in her purse.

It was far from the first time she had taken advantage of the local’s code for an Irish coffee (not given to the passing through truckers for obvious reasons) but, even for her, it was early.

A disapproving “hmpf” met Waverly’s ears, but she couldn’t bring herself to care; not at this time of year. In spite of the noise from Gus, she heard the grate of ceramic sliding against the counter and the twist of a cap from beneath the bar.

Her still cold fingers finally found her phone as Gus slid a now full mug across the countertop. Waverly’s eyes remained firmly locked on the device until after the click of Gus’ shoes on the linoleum floor faded.

Picking up her mug, the brunette’s eyes automatically drifted to the left, across the dingy counter, to a particular empty barstool. As she blew on the steaming liquid, her mind drifted to Nicole.

\--

Waverly let out a sigh, trying to ignore her aching feet as she strode behind the counter, a dirty plate in each hand. She made a beeline for the dish tub, calling over her shoulder to a new customer as she moved, “Hey, handsome.”

Plates in their rightful spot and having heard no response, she turned to fully face the patron.

Red hair was barely visible as it peeked out from underneath a baseball cap so faded and grease smudged that the waitress couldn’t venture a guess as to its original color. The customer’s eyebrows were furrowed as she read the menu in hand, perched on a barstool. Waverly’s eyes drifted to take in the plain gray short-sleeve, button-up work shirt, devoid of both a name patch and logo.

Smirking slightly at the studious nature of this woman, Waverly quietly closed the distance between them, leaned over the counter, and sharply poked her forearm.

The redhead jumped, dropping her menu in the process.

“There you are handsome. What can I get you to drink?”

“Handsome?” the woman questioned; the single word drawn out as her brown eyes widened.

“Most people aren’t here long enough for me to bother to learn their real name. I can go with ‘handsome,’ ‘cutie,’ ‘gorgeous,’ ‘hun,’ or really whatever you want,” the brunette paused, wrinkling her nose. “Just not ‘champ.’”

Waverly’s eyes drifted, fixing on the other woman’s neck just below her jaw as she added, “But I think I should get to know your name.”

“Why’s that?” the redhead questioned, head tilted to the side and confusion expanding across her face.

The brunette twisted, reaching for the nearest napkin dispenser and the soda gun. Waverly turned back to the other woman and, with a click, used a squirt of water to dampen two napkins.

“You must be the new mechanic.”

“Yeah…how did you know?”

“You have oil on your neck, let me get it,” the brunette replied, leaning across the counter.

The redhead bent closer with wide, brown eyes locked on the waitress. As Waverly gently wiped away the smudge, her thumb grazed across the mechanic’s chin.

A warm shock coursed through her veins at the contact, chasing away the nearly three-year-old frost that had settled beneath her skin. If the shudder she watched reverberate through the redhead was any indication, as brown eyes slipped lazily closed, she wasn’t the only one who felt it.

Waverly gently leaned back as the redhead’s eyes snapped open.

“Thank you…” the mechanic beamed, as brown eyes scanned her nametag, “…Waverly.”

The brunette smirked, “So, are you going to tell me your name or are you sticking with ‘handsome?’”

\--

The clink of a plate dropping in front of her pulled Waverly to the present as her eyes were drawn toward the sound.

Blinking quickly, her gaze lifted from the stack of pancakes on the counter to Gus.

“I didn’t order anything.”

The older woman rolled her eyes as she walked away, “I don’t need you to be hungover or drunk for your shift. Eat up.”

Mug still in hand, Waverly’s eyes drifted from the pancakes back to the empty barstool. She took a small sip as her mind’s eye imagined Nicole filling that seat; the same one the mechanic occupied each day on her lunch break.

Forcing her eyes back to her plate, the brunette swallowed heavily, absentmindedly trading her mug for a knife and fork even though her stomach churned.

 _It’s for the best_ , she told herself as she moodily cut through the fluffy flapjacks.

Because soon enough Nicole would skip town, leaving her behind, just like everyone else.

\--

At the end of her shift and three whiskey-laced coffees later, Waverly was more than a little buzzed as she pulled on her jacket, just before Gus slapped an envelope of her tip money into her hand.

She hadn’t exactly planned on the last two mugs, but when a particular mechanic was noticeably absent from the lunchtime crowd, the brunette couldn’t help but reach for the bottle hidden under the counter.

The anger that consumed Waverly for the last two hours of her shift had faded, leaving her exhausted. In spite of her frustration, a part of her longed to hop in her Jeep and return to Nicole’s apartment, desperate to crawl under warm, vanilla-scented sheets with a strong redhead’s touch chasing all thought away.

Shifting her attention back to the present, the waitress hastily thumbed through the envelope, humming happily as she added the total in her head. When she reached the last bill, her eyes bulged at the number in the corner.

“Gus, who left this?” she gasped.

Gus pursed her lips before answering, “It’s from me. Consider it a three-year work anniversary present. I know…bein’ here…hasn’t been easy on you. I can’t say I agree with everything you do, but you’re a worker, and you’ve never missed a shift, so I can’t give you too much grief.”

“I can’t take this,” the brunette mumbled, eyes falling back to the crisp hundred-dollar bill.

“You can, and you will.”

Waverly looked back into Gus’s eyes. Her insides squirmed when the older woman inhaled deeply through her nose, knowing Gus could smell the whiskey rolling off of the brunette’s breath.

The older woman clapped her on the shoulder, “You’re a good kid, broken maybe, but good deep down…and someone’s gotta look out for you.”

A warmth, unrelated to the alcohol in her bloodstream, coursed through Waverly’s body. A small smile tugged at the corners of her lips as the words “good kid” echoed in her mind.

But her grin quickly fell as she took in Gus’ narrowed eyes, alight with concern, as the older woman chewed her lip. The nervous gesture from her boss caused her insides to churn.

“What?” Waverly asked, tone clipped.

Gus sighed, “She didn’t say when she was coming back?”

The brunette’s eyes slid to the floor as her mind was filled with the image of pained blue eyes, simultaneously swirling with regret and disgust.

_I’ll be back for you, I **promise** baby girl. I’m not leaving you in this shit hole of a town…and I can’t believe daddy did._

She could only manage to shake her head.

Admitting it aloud, that her sister probably wasn’t ever coming back for her, meant acknowledging that she was abandoned here by not just one but two people.

She wasn’t going to allow Nicole the chance to be a third.

“I know it’s not the same,” Gus replied, “but you’ll always have family here…and with that damn mechanic if you ever see sense.”

With a squeeze her boss turned and walked away, leaving Waverly frozen with the envelope still in hand.

Pushing aside the last comment from Gus, Waverly allowed the anger and hurt she felt toward both her father and sister to wash over her. She turned on her heel, hastily shoving the envelope deep in her bag before slinging it over her shoulder and marching to the exit.

The cold breeze nipped at her exposed skin as she stomped to her Jeep, rushing to climb in and unceremoniously throwing her purse on the passenger seat.

The waitress turned the key in the ignition and, once the engine rumbled to life, her hand automatically moved to grasp the gear shifter.

Waverly paused before she mindlessly shifted into reverse, her mind registering that she didn’t know where she was going next. She didn’t want to go home, but if she wasn’t going to Nicole’s where else did she have to go?

Her frustration with everyone: her father, her sister, Nicole, boiled over, and the brunette slammed her hands against the steering wheel.

The sting in her hands rattled through her cold bones. She shivered, and her anger at the mechanic faded, replaced with missing and desperately craving strong, warm hands running up her sides.

Waverly’s hand moved on its own accord, shifting the Jeep into reverse before she peeled out of the parking lot.

Her Jeep didn’t slow until Nicole’s apartment came into view. Her eyes darted to the window she knew was to Nicole’s bedroom, and her mind flashed back to the first time she was on the opposite side of those panes of glass.

\--

Waverly squirmed with anticipation as Nicole’s wide eyes trailed up and down her body.

In the ten minutes that had passed since she crossed the threshold to Nicole’s apartment, the waitress had not only found her way to the bedroom but hastily tore off both her and the redhead’s clothes. Their lips only separated to allow for shirts to be pulled overhead, before they tumbled onto the mattress.

“Are—are you sure? We don’t have to—” the mechanic stammered.

Waverly giggled, one word spilling from her lips, “Really?”

Seeing the confusion and hurt swirling in the brown eyes above her, Waverly sat up, “Nicole, I’m naked, in your bed. What else could I want?”

The brunette watched as those brown eyes averted to the side, “I…I don’t know…”

Waverly reached for Nicole. She lightly grasped the mechanic’s jaw and held the taller woman in place as she leaned forward to nip at Nicole’s bottom lip.

As Nicole turned to connect their lips once again, the moment of insecurity seemed to dissipate. Waverly’s hand shifted lower to wrap around the mechanic’s back. The brunette leaned backward, pulling Nicole with her until her head hit the pillow.

Without breaking their kiss, Waverly’s hand moved, searching until her fingers wrapped around the mechanic’s wrist. Nicole’s hand followed willingly as Waverly navigated it between them, dragging long fingers closer and closer to where she desperately needed them.

Focused on her movements, she didn’t realize Nicole’s lips had shifted to her neck until she felt the redhead’s shaky inhale when the tips of Nicole’s fingers first brushed against her.

\--

Fear bubbled in her stomach, and she heavily dropped her foot to the gas pedal. Her tires squealed as she sped to the highway, blinking back tears.

By the time she reached the on-ramp, the dam had broken, and hot tears spilled from her eyes. She was so caught up in the warmth running down her cheeks, that she missed the blue lights flashing in her rearview mirror until the quick, shrill “whoop” of a siren reached her ears.

Cursing, she slowed her Jeep, turning the wheel to pull off to the side of the road. As she shifted into park, she hastily wiped at her face, fighting the fruitless battle of trying to cover up the tears that had spilled.

A sharp rap on glass pulled Waverly back to the problem at hand. A dazzling smile automatically spread across her face as she turned and wound down her window.

“Hey, Officer Jones!” she beamed, “What are you doing out here?”

The older man’s nose shifted as he tentatively sniffed the air.

“I was going to ask you the same,” he replied gently, hands gripping his belt.

Waverly froze as his nose lifted again, and the waitress knew he could detect the whiskey on her breath. Unwilling to further reveal her state of inebriation to one of her regular customers, she tightly closed her mouth, her lips curling in.

“You certainly seem in an awful hurry to get out of town,” Officer Jones commented softly, his green eyes scanning her face.

Waverly only nodded, lips still clenched shut.

The older man sighed, a hand lifting from his belt to run through the side of his gray streaked hair, “How far did you think you were going to get with all that whiskey in your system?”

When Waverly only shrugged in response, Officer Jones sighed again, “Do you have your license?”

The waitress turned toward her purse, only replying with a “yes” once she was twisted toward the passenger seat.

She dug out her wallet and absentmindedly reached into the slot for her license. Her fingers brushed up against rough material instead of the smooth plastic of the card.

Waverly frantically rifled through the other slots, unsure where else the ID would be.

Tossing her wallet aside, she reached into her bag, murmuring "What the f—"

She paused as realization washed over her, running a hand down her face in frustration.

"I don't have it," she fumed, finally turning back to the officer standing next to her Jeep. "I must've dropped it...somewhere."

His green eyes were round with sympathy, and it only further enraged Waverly.

“C’mon kid, let’s get you back to the station. You can call for a ride from there.”

\--

An hour later, Waverly sat on the bench in a holding cell at the police station angrily tapping her foot. She had unequivocally refused to call anyone to pick her up, knowing Nicole was her only option, and insisted she could walk back to her apartment.

But Officer Jones wouldn't let her.

And it may have led to some shouting. And stomping. That may have resulted in her being locked in her current location.

She looked up at the sound of wheels sliding across the linoleum floor to see Officer Jones, rolling into the open doorway in his desk chair.

“Ready to phone a friend yet?” he asked.

“Nope. No, I’ll just sit here until you deem me sober _enough_ to walk home.”

The officer shrugged and turned, before rolling back out of sight, calling over his shoulder, “Have it your way.”

Waverly huffed out a frustrated breath, fuming at a particular redhead who likely had her driver's license.

The brunette wanted to scream until her lungs burned that she deliberately kept everyone in this damn town, _not just Nicole_ , at arm's length **_on purpose_** _._

As she continued to tap her foot restlessly, her mind, lacking anything productive to do, replayed the conversation with Nicole from this morning, with two words sticking in her head.

_Stay...please._

As it played on a loop, her heart broke just as Nicole's voice had on that last word.

Waverly’s mind raced with memories of time with Nicole flashing by fleetingly as if a part of a flipbook.

Nicole checking the tire pressure in her Jeep, folding not one but two blankets to keep at the foot of the bed in case Waverly got cold in the middle of the night, stocking her pantry with Waverly’s favorite popcorn and the fridge with her favorite beer, and the extra cell phone charger plugged into an outlet on Waverly’s side of the bed.

She had been too busy worrying that Nicole would leave like everyone else to see the mechanic doing all she could to keep Waverly to stay.

The waitress impatiently swiped at the tears streaming down her cheeks, unsure of when they’d started again.

“Dan! Hey Officer Jones!” she called, her voice thick.

When the officer rolled back into the open doorway, his eyebrows were raised.

“Are you okay, Waverly?” he asked gently, his joints cracking as he slowly stood up.

“No, but I’m ready to make that phone call.”

The waitress watched as he closed the distance to the holding cell and, with the turn of a key, slid open the door. He led her out to his desk and pointed her to the phone on the corner.

“Press 9 to dial-out.”

With shaking fingers, Waverly punched in Nicole's phone number and held her breath as it rang.

“Hello?”

She sighed in relief at the mechanic's voice, “...Nicole…”

The waitress didn't make it any further as she choked on a sob. Over the airwaves, Waverly heard a sharp inhale on the other end, followed by the clearing of a throat.

“Yes, Waverly?”

Guilt coursed through her veins at the mechanic’s stoic tone, forcing Waverly’s gaze to her feet as she toed at the floor.

“Can you come pick me up?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In full transparency, I don’t know when I’ll have the final installment of this up...which shouldn’t be a major shock given the time that passed from me posting this as a oneshot until now. 
> 
> I do have some other things in the works in the meantime. So stay tuned? Or come find me me on twitter [@dubiousorange17](https://twitter.com/dubiousorange17).


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apparently I’m not quite done with this fic yet. Sorry, not sorry. 
> 
> Thanks to [@LuckyWantsToKnow](https://twitter.com/LuckyWantsTo) for being a stupendous beta! 
> 
> You can find me on twitter [@dubiousorange17](https://twitter.com/dubiousorange17).

Nicole sighed as she glanced at the clock in the shop, absentmindedly picking at the sandwich in front of her, watching the second hand tick around the face.

On any other day she would be at the diner at this time, seated on her usual stool at the counter. But with this morning’s conversation with Waverly weighing heavily on her, she knew she wouldn’t be able to face her favorite waitress. So, for the first time since she’d moved to Purgatory, she packed her lunch and found herself on a cold, metal chair at the dingy card table in the corner of the shop.

She ripped off a small chunk and popped it in her mouth, grimacing at how her stomach churned in response.

 _Maybe I should’ve gone to the diner,_ she thought, pulling at the crust, _then at least I could apologize._

But Nicole couldn’t shake the note of finality in Waverly’s voice when the waitress said goodbye that morning.

Feeling tears burn at the corner of her eyes and her throat constrict, the mechanic hastily stood, the feet of the chair grating against the concrete floor. She grabbed the edge of the tin foil that she had used to wrap her sandwich, crumbled it and her barely touched lunch into a ball and tossed it in a trash bin.

\--

The CB crackled to life. Projected from speakers overhead, the static was audible over the noise in the shop, but it didn't register to Nicole as she focused on finishing up her work underneath a truck.

“PD calling for a tow,” echoed throughout the building.

“Haught, you’re up.”

She swore as her wrench slipped off the nut she was tightening.

“I’m a little busy,” she called back to her colleague, impatience slipping into her tone. “Think you can reply?”

“On it.”

Nicole huffed as she returned to the task at hand.

“Go ahead PD,” she heard Dolls reply into the microphone.

“Got a red Jeep Wrangler to impound when you’ve got someone free.”

“License plate?”

As an all-too-familiar combination of letters and numbers were called out over the airwaves, Nicole’s arms fell. She slowly rolled out from under the truck on her creeper, worry pooling in her stomach.

“Location?”

“Eastbound ramp for Highway 17.”

Bitter bile rose quickly in her throat, her eyes watering at the acidity. Nicole slipped in her haste to get to her feet, instead tipping the creeper to the side and rolling onto the dirty shop floor.

She staggered to her feet, knees threatening to give out as she pulled her keys from her pocket. Nicole only took one stumbled step toward the shop’s door before strong hands on her shoulders stopped her.

“Dolls,” she mumbled, “she’s leaving?”

“You don’t know that,” her colleague replied, but Nicole couldn’t help but note the way his voice lacked its usual firm conviction.

\--

If Nicole had her way, she would still be at the shop, arms deep in an engine or something else to take her mind off of Waverly. Instead, she was sprawled out on her couch after Dolls insisted on dropping her at home on his way to tow the waitress’ Wrangler.

She was numb to the rough fabric of the old piece of furniture rubbing against her elbows and triceps, as she twisted and turned, failing to find a comfortable position.

If she thought her...relationship...with the waitress left her feeling lonely before, it was nothing compared to the desolate state she found herself in at that moment.

Because Waverly was leaving town.

And though Nicole hadn’t been in Purgatory long, she knew it wasn’t uncommon for people who lived here to vanish, seemingly overnight. Whether they hitched a ride on a passing big-rig to the next town over or disappeared under more sinister circumstances, one thing held true: they never came back.

 _And why would they?_ her brain slyly added, as she harshly twisted again.  

Nicole couldn’t help the shudder that overtook her as she tried to reason with herself that at least Waverly seemed to be leaving voluntarily.

Though the events of that morning had been devastating, as the day went on and she had lost her feelings in motor oil and sweat, she had taken some solace that, in time, maybe they could move on from this and be friends. It was better to have Waverly in her life, in _any_ capacity, then to be here, in Purgatory, without her. She wanted nothing more than to be there for Waverly in whatever way the waitress needed it; even if the pain she felt now was the consequence of that.

Nicole was pulled from her thoughts when she felt, more than heard, her phone buzzing in her pocket.

She sat up quickly, fumbling for the device. Disappointment settled in the pit of her stomach at the unknown number that flashed across the screen.

Her fingers twitched around her phone, longing to chuck it across the room.

With a deep breath, she forced the all-too-tempting idea aside and clicked to answer.

“Hello?”

Nicole froze at the familiar sigh on the other end of the line, and felt a lump form in her throat.

“...Nicole…”

All oxygen left her lungs at the barely contained sob that traveled over the airways. She cleared her throat, failing to push away the lump.

“Yes, Waverly?”

There was a pause, and Nicole waited with bated breath.

“Can you come pick me up?”

Her heart broke at the uncertainty in Waverly’s voice.

“Of course,” she breathed, hoping the warmth in her tone carried across the airways. “You’re at the police station?”

She heard a relieved inhale on the other end, “Yeah...how did you know?”

“Heard the call come in to tow your Jeep…”

The mechanic paused, unsure how to proceed around the growing lump in her throat. She quickly stood, moving to the hook by the door for her keys, as she wrestled with the words to tell Waverly just how worried she had been when the call came in and how relieved she was to hear the waitress’s voice.

“...I’ll, um, be there in five. See you soon.”

“See you soon...” Waverly repeated, “...and, um, Nic…”

“Yeah?”

“...thank you,” Waverly whispered.

The mechanic cleared her throat again, the lump finally dissolving, “Anytime, Waves.”

\--

Nicole slid into the driver’s seat of her truck, gently closing the door behind her. Her brown eyes darted around the cab, deliberately avoiding the passenger seat.  

“Where to?” she asked, attention determinedly focused on putting the key into the ignition.

As the engine rumbled to life, her peripheral vision caught the waitress fidgeting with the sleeve of her jacket. In spite of herself, Nicole twisted in her seat to fully face Waverly, only pausing to turn up the fan, ensuring the vents were directing the heat in the brunette’s direction.

The blast of warm air pulled Waverly out of the fog that seemed to consume her, and she turned to Nicole.

“Can we go somewhere to...talk?”

Nicole swallowed heavily, her focus immediately drawn to the surprisingly clear eyes across from her.

The mechanic felt her jaw drop, unsure what words would make their way from her frozen brain to her mouth, but it snapped shut as she felt a cold but soft hand covering her own.

Her eyes fell to Waverly’s fingers wrapped around her hand, gently holding it in place.

Nicole heard the waitress clear her throat and her eyes automatically lifted when Waverly spoke again.

“Please.”

Waverly held her gaze, wide hazel eyes pleading for a chance.

Nicole’s vision drifted to the side as she bit her lip to hold in the “okay” that was readily on the tip of her tongue.

She hadn’t known Waverly all that long but the waitress had this indescribable hold over her from the day they met. As much as she wanted to immediately bend to whatever Waverly asked, she couldn’t help but assume the brunette was going to tell her that she was leaving town... and Nicole. Forever.

The mechanic felt the crack in her heart grow at the thought, her empty stomach again sending bile to push at the rapidly forming lump in her throat.

Her eyes returned to Waverly’s, and any thought of not indulging the waitress vanished, replaced with the instinctive, yet overwhelming, desire to show the brunette just how much she cared for her, one last time.

Finally the mechanic nodded, “Okay, but can I stop somewhere first?”

\--

Nicole hurried up one aisle and down the other in the small grocery store, grabbing the few things she needed and placing them in her hand-held basket: eggs, milk, flour, powdered sugar. Though the brunette followed along, Waverly seemed preoccupied with something at the front of the store, twisting and turning to keep it in her sight.

“What are you looking at?” Nicole finally asked as she made her way to the register.

Waverly gently grabbed her wrist and pulled her to a display of gummy worms.

“These are your favorite, right?” the waitress asked softly, eyes not quite meeting Nicole’s.

The redhead nodded, a soft smile spreading across her lips. She tried to tame the hope that spread throughout her over the waitress remembering that fact, as Waverly grabbed a package off the rack. Nicole held out the basket in to allow the shorter woman to drop the bag in with the rest of her items.  

Waverly shook her head, pulling cash from her purse, “No, I got it.”

\--

After depositing her groceries inside, Nicole closed the refrigerator door and turned toward the entrance to her kitchen. She felt her stomach drop as she took in the way Waverly lingered there, fiddling with her jacket sleeves, seemingly unwilling to cross the threshold.

“You know, you can come in,” the mechanic called, shooting an uneasy grin across the expanse between them.

“Um, I should…”

Nicole tensed as the waitress turned away the slightest bit. Her gaze fixed on Waverly, unable to look away as she walked out of her life.

Instead, the brunette shook her head, unreadable hazel eyes shifting back to Nicole, “Um, actually, can I take a shower...before we...talk?”

“Yeah,” Nicole breathed, stepping forward, “Of course.”

\--

Nicole tried to focus as she measured out flour, and then sugar, but it was hard when Waverly’s sobs, audible over the running water, cut through the thin walls.

With shaky hands she stirred, only pausing to grab two beers from the fridge when she heard the water shut off, placing them on the counter. As if on autopilot, she pulled a clean shot glass from a cabinet, pouring whiskey into it and leaving the bottle at its side, before returning to the bowl.

She heard the waitress step into the kitchen just as she pushed the pan into the oven. After setting the timer, Nicole turned, breath catching at the sight of Waverly in a rolled up pair of the mechanic’s basketball shorts and a too-big hoodie.

Nicole watched as, for the first time, Waverly sat at one of the barstools along the counter, twisting the cap off one of the beers. She lifted the beer bottle to her lips, her attention darting from the full shot glass to the whiskey bottle.

Nicole waited, several minutes ticking away, before she broke the uneasy silence, “How was the shower?”

The brunette jumped at her words, seemingly pulled out of her own thoughts. Nicole wiped her hands on a rag before moving to stand opposite the waitress, only the kitchen peninsula separating them.

“Oh, um, good,” Waverly replied absentmindedly, shifting to lean away from the whiskey in front of her.

Nicole nodded, reaching for the second beer and taking a swig to occupy her shaking hands as silence fell between them again. In the minutes that passed, the brunette continued to apprehensively eye the shot glass.

Nicole broke the silence again, “You don’t have to drink it, it’s okay...I just assumed…”

The mechanic trailed off, eyes falling to the bottle twisting in between her hands.

A nervous chuckle brought her attention back to Waverly.

“You look like you could use it,” Waverly grinned, pushing the glass across the counter, the liquid sloshing from side to side at the movement.

The heaviness of the day caught up to Nicole as she automatically picked it up, eyes never leaving the waitress’, and asked, “Or do I need to save it for after we talk?”

It felt as though the countertop extended, catching Nicole in the stomach and knocking the wind from her lungs as she watched Waverly’s eyes fall.

The mechanic blinked back the tears that filled her own eyes as she cursed herself.

“Shit, Waverly, I didn’t—”

“No, Nicole,” the waitress interjected, swirling eyes lifting to meet the redhead’s again. “After today, I deserve it—”

“No—”

It was Nicole’s turn to interject, but she was quickly cut off by a stern look.

Waverly sighed, running a hand through her damp hair before she nodded at the shot glass, “You might want it now...and maybe another one after all this.”

The mechanic’s stomach churned at the cryptic comment, but she automatically lifted the glass to her lips, eyes never leaving Waverly’s as the whiskey rolled down her throat. After the emotional roller coaster she had been on today, she was numb to the burn as she placed the glass back on the counter.

“No chaser?” Waverly observed, eyebrow arched.

“I learned from the best,” Nicole smirked.

The brunette grinned briefly before her face fell. Nicole watched as the woman across from her nervously chewed on her bottom lip and picked at the label on her beer bottle.

“Hey, Waves, we don’t have to do this right now,” Nicole gently reassured, fighting the urge to reach across and cover the waitress’ hands with her own.

“No, I do.”

At Waverly’s assertive tone, Nicole’s eyes scanned the hazel ones across from her. Noting their unyielding glint, the redhead nodded.

Waverly brought her beer to her lips one more time, taking a healthy swig, before clearing her throat.

“Weeks ago, you asked how long I’ve been here,” Waverly began, eyes not quite meeting the mechanic’s but swirling with a faraway look, not unlike the one Nicole observed at the diner yesterday. “As of yesterday, I’ve been here three years."

The brunette paused, and Nicole’s mind flashed to the date on Waverly’s driver license.

“You moved here on your eighteenth birthday?” Nicole asked, feeling her brow furrow.

“‘Move’ might be a generous word,” Waverly huffed, pausing to take a sip from her bottle. “My sister Wynonna and I were raised by our father and grew up in the cab of his truck. I barely remember my momma...she left daddy when I was four or five and took our oldest sister with her. Daddy sold our little house and took us on the road with him.”

Nicole blinked, and she could see it: a small Waverly bouncing from window-to-window as the world flashed by, singing along to the radio, reading on a small bed in the cab. A small smile started to tug at the redhead’s lips, but it quickly faded.

“I don’t—I don’t think he ever quite knew what to do with Wynonna and me,” Waverly continued. “At first, he tried to make it as normal as he could but he had always been on the road by himself...and he really didn’t know either of us...what we ate, what we liked, what we were scared of…”

Nicole felt her stomach churn at the pause, sensing the direction of this story.

“...but Wynonna helped him. She took care of _everything_ with me, helped me shower at the truck stops, brushed my teeth, even cut the crust off my sandwiches,” the mechanic watched as tears started to leak from Waverly’s eyes. “And daddy blamed her when I misbehaved.”

The mechanic watched as Waverly paused to wipe her eyes. The oven timer dinged as the waitress took another sip of her beer. Nicole backed away from the counter, watching as the brunette didn’t seem to notice the interruption.

“It wasn’t so bad if he was sober, sometimes he even found my endless curiosity amusing. Said I reminded him of himself as a kid…,” Waverly continued as Nicole pulled on an oven mitt, “...but when he was drinking...it was scary.”

Nicole nearly dropped the pan as she pulled it out of the oven. Swallowing heavily, she gently placed it on the stove top to cool and turned off the oven.

“He and Wynonna would shout at each other and carry on. He would throw bottles...never _at_ us...but sometimes there were close calls.”

Nicole felt her blood start to boil as she grabbed a mixing bowl and pulled the butter, powdered sugar, and other supplies she had set out over to the peninsula.

“You might have noticed the small scars on my shins and knees?”

Nicole nodded in response, her mind’s eye easily recalling the small marks littered across the brunette’s legs. Like so many other things she had longed to ask, she had bit the question back before.

“They’re from cleaning up the broken glass,” the waitress admitted, before shaking her head and taking another sip of her beer. “But it wasn’t always like that. Wynonna and daddy got along so well most of the time. They were thick as thieves. He would even take her along to his card games sometimes.”

As she finished dumping ingredients into the bowl, the mechanic looked up to see Waverly staring resolutely on the countertop.

“But then things got... _bad_...Wynonna became friends with an older guy, John Henry, who played cards with daddy. He had started his own trucking company and Wynonna kept telling daddy how she was going to drive for him when she was old enough. God knows she could’ve then...she would drive for daddy when he was still passed out in the morning so we could stay on schedule. Anyways, he didn’t like it, kept telling her that she was destined to be more than a truck driver and...it just kept escalating…until Wynonna left in the middle of the night not long after she turned sixteen. Daddy had been out...doing God knows who or what...and came back and I was the only one in the cab of the truck.”

Nicole’s arm fell limp, the wooden spoon in her hand threatening to drop into the bowl.

She watched as the waitress impatiently swiped at the tears silently dripping down her face, “It was just daddy and me after that.”

“How old were you?”

“Ten.”

“Wynonna was too young to drive big rigs…legally…” Nicole trailed off, trying to ignore how young the brunette was when her sister left.

She watched as Waverly swallowed heavily, “I found out she did some other delivery work for Henry for a bit, driving vans, now the two of them are a team with their own truck.”

The mechanic nodded vaguely and started to stir again, brow furrowed as she processed everything Waverly had told her so far.

“And this connects to why you’re here…?”

She glanced up to see the brunette nod before downing the rest of her beer.

“After Wynonna left...everything changed for the worse...drastically. Daddy started driving like a maniac, always trying to maximize the sunlight so he could drink and gamble at night wherever we stopped. We never seemed to have enough money even though he had one less mouth to feed. And he spent more and more nights away from the truck...sleeping with locals I guess?”

Nicole looked up again, hearing a sharp inhale from across the counter. Her stomach dropped at the pain swirling in Waverly’s eyes and the silent tears that streaked down her cheeks.

The spoon clattered to the side of the bowl as she rushed around the counter, pulling a still-seated Waverly into her arms. Nicole felt the waitress sob, arms wrapping tightly around her middle, her whole body shaking with the emotion that poured out of her.

They stayed there like that, with Nicole running a hand through damp brunette hair that smelled like her shampoo instead of Waverly’s own, until the mechanic felt the arms around her fall.

She watched as Waverly leaned back, watery red-rimmed hazel eyes locking on her own.

“He left me _here_ ,” the brunette snarled, and Nicole slipped backward half a step, feeling the unfamiliar rage radiate off the shorter woman. “The night before my birthday, we stopped here and stayed at the motel. We _never_ , or sorry, _I never_ , stayed in a room, always in the cab of the truck. I should’ve known then. He—he…”

Another wave of emotion hit the brunette, and she slumped over, the fight rapidly fading from her. Nicole darted forward to close the distance between them again, catching Waverly before she could crumble to the ground.

Anger rose in the mechanic, starting in her stomach and burning up her throat; Waverly didn’t need to voice it aloud for Nicole to piece together that her father had abandoned her in goddamn _Purgatory_ of all places.

But she swallowed it, focusing her attention on the woman falling apart in her arms. Nicole gently eased Waverly off the chair and lowered them both to the floor, resting her back against the cabinets.

She pulled the waitress as tight into her chest as she could, feeling Waverly automatically tuck her head underneath Nicole’s chin.

\--

They sat entwined in one another until Waverly’s breath evened out once again. Nicole could feel the chest of her t-shirt sticking to her, soaked through from the waitress’s tears.

“Sorry,” Waverly mumbled, wiping her face as she moved to free herself.

“Waves,” Nicole croaked, voice hoarse from lack of use, “what are you apologizing for?”

“This...all of this…”

The waitress quickened her movements, on her feet so quickly Nicole startled. Still seated on the floor, the redhead looked up, watching the way Waverly turned herself to the side, arms wrapped around her middle, as if the shorter woman was trying to shield herself from any more pain.

“I still don’t follow,” the mechanic admitted gently, waiting until the brunette’s head twisted in her direction until she continued. “Would I be here if I didn’t want to be?”

“We’re in _your_ home.”

Nicole chuckled as she slowly stood up, “True. Wouldn’t stop me from leaving if I really wanted to though.”

Watching as Waverly’s brow furrowed at that statement, the mechanic returned to the other side of the peninsula. With a nervous grin, she picked the spoon back up and continued to stir.

“But I’m _always_ happy to have you here, Waves.”

The brunette’s confusion seemed to grow, her eyes narrowing as she stepped closer to the counter to peer into the bowl as if noticing it for the first time.

Nicole watched as hazel eyes darted from the bowl to the pan atop the oven and back to her; Waverly’s face softening in the process.

“What is this?”

“It's not a birthday without cake, right?” Nicole replied with a shrug, hoping the gesture wouldn’t drive the waitress away.

“No one has _ever_ made me a birthday cake before…” the brunette whispered.

“Then this is long overdue...I’m sorry this is belated too...if you had told me, we could’ve enjoyed it on the right day.”

Nicole watched as Waverly’s shoulders drooped.

“Why didn’t you tell me? Not just this but...everything?” the mechanic asked gently.

The waitress brought her empty beer to her lips, seemingly forgetting that she’d finished it, before responding, “I thought you’d leave me here too...”

Nicole rested the spoon on the side of the bowl.

“Are you going anywhere?

“Not...not anymore…” Waverly trailed off.

“Anymore?” Nicole prompted.

The brunette reached for her purse at the far end of the peninsula, grabbing the package of gummy worms from inside. She opened the pack, pulled one out, and placed the bag on the counter between them before responding.

“Wynonna stopped at the diner awhile ago,” the waitress began, twisting the gummy candy between her fingers. “Henry was fueling up, and she was in a hurry to get food because they were running behind. She, um, was shocked to find me there, to put it lightly.”

Waverly paused, popping the gummy worm into her mouth and reaching for the empty bottle of beer once again.

The mechanic pushed off the counter, reaching the fridge in two long strides to pull out another bottle. She handed it across the peninsula to the brunette. Waverly twisted the top off and took a long swig before continuing.

“She, um, said she was going to come back for me…”

The pain painted across the waitress’ face, felt like a kick to Nicole's’ stomach, knocking the wind from her lungs. The redhead yearned for any sort of connection with the woman across from her, and she automatically bent forward, covering Waverly’s hand that rested on the counter.

Though it hurt to ask, Nicole selfishly needed to know, “But not anymore…?”

Waverly shrugged, eyes filling with tears, “I guess not. It’s been a year and I haven’t heard a word from her.”

Nicole squeezed Waverly’s hand, inhaling sharply when the waitress’s hand flipped, interlocking their fingers.  

The mechanic couldn’t tear her gaze from their connected hands.

It wasn’t the first time they had held hands, but this somehow seemed far more intimate than the countless times she was tugged to the bedroom by the waitress. Nicole ran her thumb over the back of Waverly’s hand, reveling in the soft, tan skin. With a steadying breath, the redhead forced her vision back to the hazel eyes across from her.  

“For what it’s worth, as long as you want me... _here_...I will be by your side.”

Nicole held her breath while the waitress held her gaze; hazel eyes seeming to dart between her own, as if searching for any hint of insincerity.

The mechanic felt her palms start to sweat as the seconds drew out before a wide smile broke out across Waverly’s face.

\--

Nicole sleepily rolled to her left, arm reaching across the bed. Her eyes snapped open when she came up empty-handed.

She felt an all-too-familiar lump form in her throat as she took in the empty spot next to her.

Her vision was obscured by rapidly forming tears, and she cursed herself for thinking things would change.

It didn’t matter that she and Waverly had stayed up, waiting to frost the cake until it had cooled enough and getting to know each other like they should have weeks ago, before the waitress blew out the candles. It didn’t matter that they had gone to bed, only to sleep, after the long day caught up to them. It didn’t matter that she woke up in the middle of the night to find the waitress pulling her closer.

Nicole twisted back, punching her pillow as silent tears slid down her face. But she sat up quickly at a noise from elsewhere in her apartment.

She tentatively sniffed the air, inhaling a buttery, sweet smell.

The mechanic carelessly tossed the cover aside, pulling on a pair of sweatpants as she followed the smell to the kitchen.

She blinked several times, not trusting her vision that Waverly was indeed still there, standing at the stove, wearing only the t-shirt of Nicole’s that she had slept in, humming to herself as she flipped a pancake.

“You’re still here?”

The mechanic hadn’t intended to voice the question aloud, but it slipped out as her dumbfounded brain struggled to believe that Waverly was really there.

“Shit, Waves, I—”

But she was cut off by a spatula raised in her direction as the waitress turned, a smile on her lips, “Where else would I be?”

\--

A few weeks later, Nicole plopped down on her usual stool at the diner, not bothering to pick up a menu from the rack.

“Hey, baby!” Waverly called, rounding the corner of the counter and closing the distance between them to place a brief peck on Nicole’s lips. “Let me guess. BLT, with onions, easy on the mayo. Onion rings instead of fries.”

“How did you know?” Nicole grinned.

“It’s Tuesday,” Waverly replied with an eye roll. “And you’re my most predictable customer.”

The mechanic feigned offense, “Maybe I’ll change up my drink just to throw you off.”

A chilly gust cut through the air as the door to the diner opened.

Waverly huffed impatiently as she turned from the counter toward the coffee pots, “If you do, it won’t be today...”

Nicole turned, nodding her head in greeting to the woman in a leather jacket that dropped on the stool next to her.

“...not after I kept you up all night,” the waitress continued, turning back with a wink and a full mug in hand.

Nicole flushed at the comment, but the feeling was quickly replaced with concern as the color drained from Waverly’s face.  

“Gross. Keep it in your pants, baby girl.”

In the span of a blink, the clouded and faraway look that had been missing from Waverly’s eyes for the past few weeks, returned as if it had never left. Nicole tensed, her panicked mind racing to piece together what prompted it.

The sound of ceramic shattering against the linoleum floor pulled Nicole back to the present.

“Wynonna?”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You might have noticed the update in chapter numbers...again…
> 
> I’ll post the next chapter next week and I have a little epilogue in the works for some point after that. 
> 
> Thank you to [@LuckyWantsToKnow](https://twitter.com/LuckyWantsTo) for awesome beta-ing. If you want to find me on twitter, I’m [@dubiousorange17](https://twitter.com/dubiousorange17).

“C’mon baby girl, let’s go.”

Waverly sighed. It had taken wiping up the spill and broken ceramic at her feet for the overwhelming shock to fade. In spite of her efforts to still them, her fingers still shook as she dumped the pile into a trash bin.

As she turned back toward the counter and Wynonna, an almost itchy irritation burned beneath her skin, fueled by the audacity of her sister to come back over a year later, acting as if no time had passed.

She shook her head, “Wynonna, I’m working.”

“So?”

The waitress’ eyes darted to Nicole, and her stomach dropped at the hard look on her girlfriend’s face.

“I can’t just _leave_ ,” she murmured.

Wynonna huffed, “I told you I was coming back for you. If you wanted to stay, you should’ve spoken up then.”

The waitress’ eyes bulged as she hissed, “It’s been a _year_.”

“I know, baby girl, but—”

“I can’t do this right now,” Waverly interjected, running a still trembling hand over her face as she added. “I’m off at 3. If you’re _still_ in town then, we can talk.”

Wynonna sat back on her barstool, eyes narrowing, “This isn’t exactly the warm family welcome I was expecting.”

“I don’t know what you were hoping for, but I’m done. I have customers,” Waverly stated, turning on her heel.

As she marched around the corner to the dining room, her sister’s voice reached her ears, “Jeez, what’s her problem, Red?”

Waverly felt her rage spark and her skin flush, as she checked on her other customers, forcing her emotions aside for her signature smile and wave. She continued her warpath through the diner, soles of her shoes clicking loudly against the floor, as she purposefully avoided the counter where Nicole and Wynonna remained; she only returned to wordlessly drop the mechanic her lunch once it was up in the window.

The blank look on Nicole’s face gave Waverly only a momentary reprieve from the anger consuming her, as her stomach twisted guiltily again. She stretched across the counter, hand longing to reach for any part of Nicole.

But she stilled quickly, her hand hanging above the mechanic’s, at an apprehensive hum from Wynonna. Waverly’s frustration cascaded over her again, and her vision involuntarily darted to the side, her sister’s wild blue eyes suspiciously taking in Nicole. Waverly quickly pulled her hand back, with a glare at her sister, and turned away.

Muscle memory carried her through the remainder of her shift as she used every tedious task to keep her attention away from the counter. In between attending to her customers, she restocked sugar packets, filled salt and pepper shakers, and swept every corner of the dining room. As she went through the motions, she was only vaguely aware that Nicole lingered at the counter long past her allotted lunch break, neither she nor Wynonna moving more than to lift their coffee mugs to their lips.

Focused intently on wiping down menus to keep her anger at bay, it took a bark from Gus for Waverly to finally glance at the clock. She shook her head, realizing it was nearly a half hour past the end of her shift.

She swallowed thickly, “You sure you don’t need me to stick around?”

Gus clicked her tongue in response, eyes narrowing, “There are two people here and I’m pretty sure both of them are waiting for you, kid. Go.”

\--

Waverly was seated at Nicole’s dining room table with her hands wrapped around the warm mug of tea her girlfriend had placed in front of her. The redhead hadn’t drifted far away, standing at her back with a steady hand on her shoulder, and the waitress could practically feel the anger radiating off Nicole, directed across the table at Wynonna and John Henry.

“It’s okay Clifford, you can go chase some cars or something. I’ll take it from here,” Wynonna smirked.

Waverly felt the hand on her shoulder tense, and she lifted one of her own to cover Nicole’s, running her thumb across her girlfriend’s knuckles.

“I’ll chase you out—” the mechanic snarled.

Waverly cut her off with a squeeze, “If you want to talk, she stays.”

She watched her sister’s brow furrow as Wynonna’s focus darted between her and Nicole.

“Fine,” Wynonna eventually huffed, with an eye roll. “But sit down Red, you’re making me nervous.”

“You should be,” Nicole grumbled.

Waverly twisted to see the mechanic chew on her lip, brown eyes ablaze as they glared unwaveringly back at the older Earp. It took the waitress tugging their still-connected hands off her shoulder, instead linking their fingers and bringing their hands between them, for Nicole’s attention to drift back to her.

When their eyes met, the fire extinguished quickly, doused by the anguish that swirled in its place.

“Please sit, Nic.”

The mechanic gave a small nod and pulled out the chair next to her.  

Waverly waited until Nicole was settled, pulling the mechanic’s hand into her lap, before turning back to her sister, “It’s been a _year_ , where the hell were you?”

Wynonna’s hand twitched from its spot on the table as if she wanted to reach for Waverly but thought better of it as she pursed her lips.

“Baby girl, you know if I had my way, I would’ve taken you with me when I saw you...but—”

“But you guys were behind,” Waverly interjected, rolling her eyes. “I know, you told me.”

Her sister held up her hands in front of her, palms out, “We didn’t finish the job anyway...and I should’ve….I should’ve just told you to pack up and come with us.”

“What do you mean?” Waverly asked, confused.

Wynonna swallowed, eyes clouding. Her mouth opened twice but no words came out. Her lips rolled inward, and she shifted in her seat before she finally spoke.

“We _may_ have had one of Doc’s guys pick up our truck to finish the route, and we may have gone to hunt down daddy.”

“You did _what?_ ”

Her sister huffed, pulling a flask from the pocket of her jacket, taking a long swig before she continued, shrugging, “Doc’s wanted to find him for ages. Daddy owed him a bunch of money from years ago, but I talked him out of it, knowing it wasn’t worth it.”

A grumble, the first noise Waverly had heard from the mustached man next to her sister, pulled Waverly’s focus to Doc.  

“The money was not what I was after,” Doc grumbled, pushing his hair back then motioning for the flask. “I merely wanted a word with him about proper respect for women and children.”

Wynonna handed the flask over with an eye roll, “Anyways, mister old fashioned over here was all too eager to help me find him.”

She paused while Doc took a pull from the flask.

“And you did?” Waverly prompted, unsure what this had to do with her sister’s prolonged absence.

“We did,” Wynonna mumbled, plucking the flask from Doc’s outstretched hand to take a swallow. “But we were a little late.”

Waverly felt her eyebrows pull together, “What do you mean?”

“He wasn’t easy to find, it took us...awhile,” Wynonna grumbled.

Waverly followed her sister’s narrowed blue eyes to Doc.

“Too long,” he snarled, mustache quivering.

“But you found him?” Waverly asked.

“We did. Eventually,” her sister confirmed. “Once we tracked down his truck, I, um, might have had a _minor_ disagreement with some idiot at the bar in town when we started asking if they had seen daddy around,” Wynonna paused, taking another swig. “Word got around town pretty quick about the skirmish and I guess it didn’t look too good when daddy was found dead the next morning.”

Waverly felt her throat constrict, “Wynonna! You didn’t!”

“No, we didn’t,” Wynonna growled. “But he wouldn’t have looked much better if we got to him first.”

\--

Waverly allowed her sister to pull her into a tight hug.

“Take all the time you need baby girl,” Wynonna whispered. “Doc and I are staying in town. We’re not going anywhere unless you tell us to, okay?”

Swallowing the lump in her throat, Waverly nodded.

The sun had set before Wynonna finished recounting the events of the past year, with the help of a few words from Doc. Only Nicole rose from the table once to turn on the lights when the sky began to darken outside.  

With one final squeeze, Wynonna pulled back. Waverly watched as her sister plucked her flask off the table and lifted it to her lips, huffing when nothing came out.

Exhausted, Waverly plopped back onto her chair, vaguely aware of Nicole leading Wynonna and Doc to the front door. She finally gave in to the heavy weight of her eyelids, allowing them to slip closed as she rubbed her temples, trying to absorb everything Wynonna had shared.

Her sister and Doc had been held in some small town not unlike Purgatory, a few hundred miles east, first suspected for murder and then, when the evidence wasn’t enough to keep them any longer, for drawing weapons during their scuffle in the bar.

Wynonna swore they were set on returning to Purgatory when they were finally released, but once they were back on the road, Doc quickly caught on that they were being followed by one of the officers from town. As much as her sister wanted to go after their unwelcome follower, Doc helped her see reason; attacking the officer would only draw more suspicion. And the pair agreed, without knowing why they were being followed, it wasn’t safe to return for Waverly.

So they continued making runs, as they normally would, keeping a watchful eye on who was tailing them. It wasn’t always the officer, as they came to learn, but a group of four guys, rotating, as Wynonna and Doc made their back and forth across the country. Waverly could tell from her sister’s tone that Wynonna quickly grew restless with their predicament, even once the officer seemed to be less-and-less a part of the rotation.  

Eventually, three days passed without anyone following them. Wynonna set their big rig for Purgatory only for Doc to quickly turn the truck back around, fearing a trap of some kind. Instead, he sent one of his drivers through the town where they had been held.

The driver came back with the news that their tailing officer had been charged with Ward’s murder. But the rumor that had the town buzzing, was that the officer had been biding his time, waiting for an opportunity for revenge after he caught Ward sleeping with his wife a few months before, which Wynonna and Doc had unwittingly provided him.

Nicole’s soft footsteps approaching pulled her back to the present.

“Can I get you anything?” the redhead asked gently, as Waverly forced her eyes open.

She peered across the table to see Nicole standing behind the chair opposite of her, the mechanic’s steady hands resting atop the backrest.

“Whiskey?”

Nicole nodded, wordlessly pushing off the chair and turning to the kitchen. The waitress sighed and followed behind, settling onto a barstool while Nicole plucked a bottle of whiskey from a cabinet.

The uneasy silence between them was broken by the pop of a stopper followed by the stream of liquid hitting the bottom of the empty glass. Nicole pushed one tumbler toward her before pouring a second for herself.

“What do you think about what Wynonna said?” Waverly asked quietly, pushing her hair from her face before reaching for the whiskey.

She watched as the mechanic slowly drained her glass before responding.

“It’s irrelevant what I think,” Nicole answered slowly, pausing to shrug. “What matters is what you think...and how you feel about all this.”

“I know,” Waverly sighed, lifting her own glass to her lips, relishing the familiar comfort of the small burn of the whiskey washing down the back of her throat. “But, it’s a lot to take in...and I guess what I’m asking is…”

The brunette trailed off, mind reeling. Waverly reached for the bottle and poured herself another drink as she tried to find the right words to vocalize her question.  

“...is it fair that I’m conflicted?”

Without waiting for Nicole to respond, Waverly lifted the glass to her lips, hoping the burn would push down the wave of guilt that rose in her chest.

Her eyes drifted to the countertop, sure that she didn’t want to see whatever emotion was written across the mechanic’s face as she heard Nicole refill her own glass.

“It is,” Nicole sighed, “and it almost makes it worse.”

Waverly’s stomach clenched at the pain contorting her girlfriend’s features.

“What do you mean?”

Nicole twisted the glass in her hand, almost absentmindedly, as she answered, “I want to hate her...for not keeping her word...and in some ways, I do... because she abandoned you. But for this...for not coming back...I can’t bring myself to.”

The waitress waited until Nicole drained her glass before replying with one simple word, “Why?”

Nicole’s eyes slipped closed, “If she had come back sooner, I never would have met you. We never would have had...this.”

A wave of pain reverberated through Waverly as she focused on one word from Nicole.

“Had?”

Brown eyes snapped open, shimmering with tears. Waverly watched as the mechanic shook her head and reached for the bottle, refilling her glass once more.

“You’re leaving with her, right?” Nicole asked, her attention focused firmly on the bottle in her hand. “Going to this ‘homestead’ place?”

“I—I don’t know.”

Waverly shook her head before lifting her glass to her lips. Of everything Wynonna said, that part was what gave Waverly the most pause.

_“But Daddy sold it…” Waverly stated, shaking her head, her eyebrows pulled together._

_“I thought so too,” Wynonna replied, lifting her flask to her lips once again. “Didn’t believe it until I saw the deed for myself.”_

_“Why would he have kept it?”_

_Her sister only nodded toward Doc._

_“I believe I can answer that, Miss Waverly,” Doc began solemnly. “Ward was certain your mother and sister would return...and then I do believe he could not bear to part with it.”_

_Waverly snorted, “I don’t think daddy was a sentimental man.”_

_Wynonna shrugged, “I didn’t think so either...but the building’s still standing. It needs some work but it could be our home again. Doc and I talked about it, we could change our routes to be there all but one, maybe two, nights a week. We could add on to the barn and run his whole business out of there.”_

The warmth from Nicole’s hand covering her own pulled Waverly back to the present.

“You have to do what’s best for you, Waverly. I understand that.”

Waverly pulled her focus from their hands to Nicole’s face. Her chest tightened at the tears she saw brimming in the mechanic’s eyes, threatening to spill over at any moment.

“Nicole…” Waverly began, watching her girlfriend’s eyes slipped closed and head bowed. “... I understand why she couldn’t come back, but I don’t even know why she left me in the first place...and I don’t know if I can trust her right now. But more importantly…”

She trailed off as she stood, rounding the counter to close the distance between them. Nicole’s eyes snapped open as she moved, silent tears finally falling.

Waverly reached out, gently wiping them away with her thumb, and twisting to meet the mechanic’s gaze, “...more importantly, working through this with Wynonna doesn’t mean I want to give up what we _have_.”

She held her breath as Nicole stiffened, eyes widening.

“Are you sure?”

The waitress nodded, “Yeah.”

“Yeah?”

Waverly moved her hand, shifting it to run her thumb along her girlfriend’s jaw, her chest aching at the notion Nicole thought all it would take was Wynonna returning for her to up and leave, “I mean, I—I like you.”

Though those weren’t the words she wanted to say and her insides squirmed at how woefully insignificant they were to tell Nicole what she meant to her, but the mechanic beamed.  

“I like you too.”

Waverly shifted her weight to her toes, leaning up to softly connect their lips. She smiled, feeling Nicole lean firmly into the kiss, the mechanic’s strong hands finding her hips, tugging her closer.  

The waitress’ hand slid from Nicole’s face, down to tug at the buttons on her girlfriend’s work shirt. Waverly shivered as she felt Nicole’s hand slip underneath her own uniform top.

The brunette’s teeth found Nicole’s bottom lip as her fingers curled around a belt buckle.  

She pulled back with a tug on the clasp, “Can I show you how sure I am?’

The mechanic nodded, the corners of her lips still upward in a smile as her tongue poked out to wet her slightly swollen lip.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to [@LuckyWantsToKnow](https://twitter.com/LuckyWantsTo) for awesome beta-ing as always!

Nicole sighed, waking up to gentle hands pushing hair away from her face.

“Fudge nuggets.”

She grinned, eyes slowly opening, “Good morning.”

“I didn’t wake you, did I?” Waverly asked, worry filling her features as she pulled her hand back.

The mechanic reached out, her fingers gently finding Waverly’s forearm to still her movement, as she shifted closer to her girlfriend. 

“You did,” Nicole admitted, pausing to place a gentle kiss to each of Waverly’s knuckles, watching as the brunette beamed, “but I don’t mind how I wake up, as long as you’re by my side.”

Waverly’s smile faded, “About that…”

Nicole’s stomach twisted, and her hand slipped from her girlfriend’s, falling to the mattress.

“No, Nicole, it’s nothing like that,” the brunette asserted, tentatively covering Nicole’s hand.

The mechanic hesitantly flipped her hand, allowing Waverly to link their fingers, “What is it?”

Waverly shook her head, eyes drifting toward the foot of the bed, “Sorry, I’m buggering this all up, aren’t I?”

“No, you’re not,” Nicole encouraged softly, squeezing Waverly’s hand, trepidation still lurking in her stomach. “What do you want to say?”

Hazel eyes, wide with worry drifted back up to lock on hers.

“Last night you said it was irrelevant how you felt about what Wynonna told us...but what you think and how you feel are important to me, Nicole, especially through all of this. I meant it when I said I don’t want to give up what we have, and I hope…I hope it’s not too soon for me to say this: whatever comes next, I want us to do it _together_.”

The unease Nicole felt slipped away with that last word from Waverly.

“Together,” she agreed, leaning in to connect their lips.

\--

Nicole slowly backed up until she collided with a cabinet, putting space between herself and the wooden spoon her girlfriend was angrily wielding.

“You! Out!”

Waverly had buzzed around the kitchen for the past half hour, threatening to wear a hole in the floor as she moved from between the peninsula counter to frantically checking the pots on the stove and the pan in the oven. Nicole had fought the smile that threatened to spread across her face at Waverly’s adorably disgruntled state, strands of hair falling out of her braid and into her face. 

Nicole grinned guiltily and held her hands up as she edged around the perimeter, hugging the cabinets until she was on the other side of the peninsula.

She had been trying to help, hoping to ease Waverly’s frenzied state but instead had only found her way more and more in the way of her increasingly impatient girlfriend.

This had been the routine for the past month since Wynonna had first returned to Purgatory. Wynonna and Doc would stop through, one night a week and Waverly and Nicole...ahem _Waverly_ , would make dinner for the pair as Waverly continued to get to know her sister.

And Nicole knew Waverly was extra anxious this particular night, so she inched into the kitchen, against her better judgment, and pulled the bottle of whiskey and four empty glasses out of a cabinet. She turned and added them to the already set dining room table.

At the firm and insistent knocking on the door, indicating Wynonna’s arrival, Nicole poked her head back into the kitchen, eyeing Waverly’s shaking hands pulling a pan from the oven.

“Are you ready?” Nicole asked softly, ignoring the pounding on the door, instead striding closer to Waverly to run a soothing hand along her back. “I can tell them to come back next week. Or you don’t have to go through with it tonight.”

Waverly slowly pulled off her oven mitt, biting her lip as she leaned into Nicole, “No, I can’t put it off forever.”

After a gentle peck to the top of Waverly’s head, Nicole took a step toward the door, “She’s the one that should be nervous. Not you, baby.”

\--

“Wynonna, I need to ask you something.”

Nicole had warily eyed her fidgety girlfriend all through dinner, feeling her relentlessly bouncing knee next to her throughout the meal.

Waverly lifted her whiskey glass, downing it in one swallow before reaching across the table for the bottle. As she refilled her glass, Nicole placed her hand on Waverly’s restless leg, gently squeezing it.

“What’s on your mind, baby girl?”

Waverly’s hand covered hers, linking their fingers as she drained her glass again.

“Why did you leave me?”

\--

The clicking rumble of a diesel engine idling before abruptly cutting out reached Nicole’s ears. She sighed, hastily drying the dish in her hand and setting it in the rack next to the sink, wiping her hands on the towel as she walked to the door.

She pulled it open to reveal Wynonna, fist raised and ready to pound on the door.

The surprise that had flickered across Wynonna’s face quickly faded, replaced by narrowed eyes and an eyebrow quirk.

“How’d you know I was here?”

“Heard your truck,” Nicole shrugged leaning on the doorframe, tossing the towel over her shoulder.

“Right, _Clifford_ , I forgot,” Wynonna mumbled, slowly lowering her hand to straighten her leather jacket before pushing past Nicole, into the hallway, “Waves here?”

Nicole sighed again, turning to shut the door, “No, and you know she didn’t want to see you this week.”

“Thought she might miss me,” Wynonna called over her shoulder on the way to the kitchen, with a devious grin that didn’t quite hide the worry in her eyes. “And I noticed her Jeep in the driveway.”

Nicole followed behind, hearing a cabinet snap shut as she stepped into the kitchen to find Wynonna with the bottle of whiskey in hand.

“Power steering is acting up and I didn’t want her to drive it in that state so she has my truck.”

Wynonna’s eyebrows lifted as she pulled the stopper on the bottle. Nicole couldn’t hold back an eye roll as the older Earp lifted it directly to her lips, taking a long pull before she lowered the bottle, pointing it in her direction.

“And you’re going to fix it _right_ , aren’t you Clifford? No cutting corners with my baby sister.”

Nicole bit back the retort that too quickly came to her lips, that Wynonna had up and left her sister but now she was worried about finicky steering?

With a deep breath that she pushed out her nose, she finally replied, “ _Of course_. Wouldn’t I have just let her keep driving it if I didn’t care?” 

Wynonna shrugged half-heartedly, the bottle raised to her mouth once again. She smacked her lips as she lowered it. 

“So if she’s not here, where is she?”

Nicole rubbed the back of her neck, “Working.”

“Then I’ll just keep you company until she comes back. Please tell me you’re having something better than kibble for dinner,” Wynonna answered, pushing past Nicole, bottle still in hand, to plop into a chair in the dining room.

“She’s working a double so she’s on until 7.”

Wynonna shuddered, “A.M.?”

Nicole nodded, watching as a grin slowly spread across Wynonna’s face. The Earp hastily stoppered the bottle and stood.

“Then let’s wait up for her, c’mon Clifford.”

\--

Nicole groaned, eyeing the shot glass that was dropped in front of her. The liquor in her stomach sloshed from side-to-side as she struggled to remain upright on her barstool. Her eyes slipped closed as she willed the ripples to settle.

“Why do I drink with Earps?” she moaned, leaning heavily on her forearms as they rested on the bar. 

“You make it sound like we’re a terrible influence,” Wynonna huffed, from the barstool to her left.

“You are,” Nicole asserted, vaguely aware of the slur to her speech as she forced her eyes open. “At least when it comes to alcohol.”

She watched as Wynonna spun the full shot glass in front of her, “Waves drags you here too? Surprised this place has anything left in stock if an Earp is hitting it regularly.”

Nicole shook her head no, quickly stopping as even that little movement threw off her equilibrium, “No...mostly just my place.”

Wynonna downed her shot, motioning for another before she turned to face Nicole.

“She drink a lot?”

Nicole reached for the glass in front of her to buy time as her mind raced over how much to reveal to Wynonna.

Wynonna had, not so subtly, driven their conversation towards Waverly on-and-off throughout their evening at the one bar in town. And though a small part of her felt for Wynonna, aided by the way the elder Earp softened at just the mention of Waverly’s name and glowed at every tiny glimpse into her now-adult sister’s life, the last thing she wanted to do was betray her girlfriend’s trust.

Nicole grimaced as she tipped the glass back, regretting her decision as Wynonna’s choice of cheap whiskey burned down the back of her throat.

“She did,” Nicole admitted, fighting off a cough from the liquor, settling for a half-truth, as she sat the empty glass on the bar.

Wynonna mirrored her actions, downing another shot, and slamming the glass back on the worn wood surface. The Earp motioned for a refill again, and Nicole slapped her hand away as she started to motion for another for her too.

Wynonna pursed her lips before she replied, “I thought she’d be the one to break the family tradition.”

“You left,” Nicole seethed, the alcohol warm in her stomach breaking down any filter she may have hoped for. “What else did she have to turn to?”

When Wynonna didn’t respond, Nicole pressed on, “What did you really think was going to happen when you left? Your dad would turn into a saint? Waverly would go on to live some fairy tale life? You _knew_ what you were leaving her with and you did it anyway.”

Wynonna twisted toward her, blue eyes blazing, “Hey! Don’t talk about what you don’t know, Red.”

“Thought I was Clifford,” Nicole mumbled.

“Clifford, whatever, Jesus Christ,” Wynonna snapped, fidgeting on her barstool. “Where is my damn whiskey?”

As if on cue, the bartender returned. Wynonna pulled the glass out of his hand before he could set it on the bar and downed the shot, ordering another before he could walk away. When he glanced in her direction, Nicole ordered a beer for herself, hoping it would prevent Wynonna from plying her with more whiskey.

“I already told Waverly...and _you_ ,” Wynonna glared in her direction, “I don’t regret leaving. I had an opportunity to make something for myself, an opportunity daddy wouldn’t have... _approved_ of, so I left. I don’t regret a thing, _except_ not taking Waverly with me.”

“Waverly didn’t ask so I will. Why didn’t you take her along?”

Wynonna fiddled with the empty glass in front of her, as if willing it to fill before her eyes.

“Why, Wynonna?” Nicole repeated.

“She didn’t need me anymore,” Wynonna replied simply, eyes not wavering from the tumbler in front of her. “She could take care of herself. Get everything she needed...and I...I was just like gasoline on daddy’s fire...so I left...thinking his spark wouldn’t catch if I wasn’t there.”

“What do you mean?”

Wynonna was saved by the return of the bartender.

“Told you to just leave the bottle,” Wynonna huffed as she took the glass from him once again.

“Settle your tab with it included and it’s all yours,” he replied easily.

“But what if I don’t drink _all_ of it?”

Nicole snorted but covered it with a cough at a glare from Wynonna.

“Leave it,” Nicole sighed, addressing the bartender. “I’ll cover her if she doesn’t pay.”

“She’s your responsibility then,” he smirked, stepping away for a moment before returning with a half-full bottle.

“Great,” Nicole mumbled, sipping her beer as he turned away.

“It could be worse, Clifford,” Wynonna replied, happily filling her glass. “You could have fleas.”

Nicole rolled her eyes, taking the bottle from Wynonna when she hovered it over the empty shot glass still standing in front of her, “What did you mean by this whole gasoline and fire thing?”

Wynonna huffed, stealing the bottle back and setting it on the bar away from Nicole, “I know you don’t know me well yet, but my ‘call bullshit when I see it’ approach to life doesn’t seem to sit well with everyone. Crazy, right?” 

Nicole closed her eyes, trying to understand what Wynonna was saying. She groaned as even the blackness behind her eyelids swayed, and she forced them open.

“I still don’t understand,” she replied, running a hand through her hair, trying to focus. “Can you give me an example?”

“Oh I have loads of them,” Wynonna replied, tossing back another shot and refilling her glass as she smacked her lips. “One time, we were behind schedule to make a delivery, _like going to waste our time going all the way across the country to only get paid peanuts,_ behind schedule. Daddy had written it off as a lost cause but I knew we could make it if, y’know we actually made an effort and _drove_ instead of stopping in every town to drink and play cards. He stumbled into the truck just before dawn one morning and after he passed out in bed, I fished his keys out of his pocket and drove all-day until he woke up.”

Wynonna paused, this time to just sip the whiskey in her glass.

“I’m gonna go out on a limb and say he didn’t appreciate that?”

“Nope,” Wynonna shook her head and chuckled. “He woke up with a bladder full of whiskey when we were 100 miles from the nearest rest stop. I pulled off to the side of the highway so he could go. When he came back in, cursing up a storm and asking why I did it, I told him that if he wasn’t going to get us to the east coast, I was going to. He picked up the nearest bottle and chucked it at the windshield.”

Nicole took a sip of her beer. Though her brain was still sluggish, she knew who must have cleaned up the broken glass.

“Waverly was so scared,” Wynonna breathed, running a hand across her face. “I _never_ would have done it if I knew that’s what would happen...but that was the problem, I never knew what daddy was going to do.”

Nicole growled, “And you still left her with him?”

“Yeah, I did, Clifford,” Wynonna twisted, her wide, haunted blue eyes meeting Nicole’s. “It sure as hell wasn’t easy. But I did it. And it was the wrong choice. Are you happy?”

“No,” Nicole mumbled, picking at the label on her beer bottle.

“You have to know by now, I wouldn’t knowingly put her in danger. I told both of you, I didn’t call or even dare to have one of Doc’s guys swing by the diner because I didn’t want her dragged into our shitshow.”

Nicole hummed in response, eyes still on her drink, as Wynonna’s comment washed over her.

But her head turned when Wynonna mumbled “shit” after she drained the rest of her glass.

“I know, I don’t deserve it,” Wynonna shrugged as she filled her glass once again, “but do you think she’ll ever forgive me?”

Nicole took a long swig of her beer before she answered.

“I think she already has...but she’s protecting herself by keeping you at bay.”

“Then let’s show her that I’m here,” Wynonna replied easily, moving to slide off her stool as she downed her whiskey.

“Hold up,” Nicole stated, quickly stilling Wynonna’s movements.

She waited until Wynonna met her gaze before she continued, lowering her voice, “We’re not going anywhere, unless you’re serious about all this, wanting to be a part of her life, moving to the homestead, the whole nine yards.”

Nicole watched as Wynonna bristled at her words but, instead of backing down, she sat up on her stool, choosing her words as carefully as her inebriated mind would allow, “Either commit to this _or_ leave and never come back, it really makes little difference to me but it means _the world_ to Waverly.”

“How dare you—” Wynonna snarled, her hand moving to hover at her hip.

“Yeah, I dare,” Nicole rolled her eyes. “I’m not scared of you, Wynonna. She needed you. And if the tables were turned and you had seen how she was, thinking the only two family members she had didn’t give a damn about her and that no one else could, you would be giving me some sort of ‘if you hurt her, they’ll never find your body’ type of speech.”

Wynonna’s eyes remained narrowed, but she nodded slowly.

“As long as she wants me in her life, I’ll be there to pick up the pieces, regardless of what you decide to do. But if you do her again like that, you won’t _ever_ want to see me again.”

Wynonna’s lips rolled in before she twisted, grabbing the bottle once more and filling her glass and, ignoring Nicole’s protest, emptying the rest into the one in front of Nicole.

“You’re right.”

Nicole nodded slowly, unsure what she was right about.

“If I were in your shoes I wouldn’t be pleased with me either...but Waverly...she’s my baby girl and I would _die_ before I intentionally hurt her. And I’m ready to prove that to her...and you...or whoever else gives a damn.”

Nicole’s eyes slowly narrowed as Wynonna lifted her glass in her direction. She didn’t move until Wynonna rolled her eyes and nodded toward her glass. Nicole mirrored the action, picking up her own.

“Nicole, I’m not going anywhere unless Waverly tells me to.”

The sincerity in Wynonna’s voice and the clarity in her eyes, in spite of the liquor that she had consumed, caught Nicole more off guard than the use of her name. She allowed Wynonna’s words to wash over her again, before she nodded, fumbling to move her glass closer to Wynonna’s.

“I stand by what I said though,” Nicole asserted.

“I wouldn’t expect anything less,” Wynonna smirked.

They held each other’s gazes while they threw back their shots, Nicole’s eyes watering as she forced herself not to flinch or sputter at the liquor burning its way down her throat.

“Now drink up Clifford, and we’ll go see Waves after you finish your beer. You’ll have to be good on the walk though, I forgot my leash.”

Nicole groaned as she reached for the bottle.

\--

Nicole stumbled into the diner, Wynonna at her heels. She held her breath as she found Waverly marching out from behind the counter, eyes narrowed in Wynonna’s direction.

“You’re so pretty and I like you so much.”

“Barf,” Wynonna huffed.

Waverly quickly closed the distance between them, a finger pointing vaguely at the two of them.

“You are drunk! And in trouble, okay? Both of you.”

“Sorry,” Nicole mumbled, eyes drifting to the floor.

Waverly sighed, reaching for her face, “You are in _less_ trouble. Go sit down, I’ll get you some food to help you sober up.”

Nicole’s eyes slipped closed as she leaned into the touch.

“Not the time. Sit down, Nic.”

With a huff, she turned, leaving the sisters by the door. She plopped onto her usual barstool.

“I told you not to come by this week.”

In the empty diner, the hurt in Waverly’s voice easily reached Nicole’s ears. She twisted slightly toward the entryway, frantically gripping the counter as she nearly slid off the worn seat in the process.

She watched as Wynonna toed at the floor.

“I know, I should’ve listened to you...but I was worried.”

“So getting Nicole drunk eased your worried mind?” Waverly grumbled, arms crossed firmly over her chest.

“A little...I mean, I figured it wouldn't kill me to get to know her I guess. If she’s so important to you.”

Nicole heard her girlfriend take a deep breath as her arms fell to her sides, but Waverly’s voice lowered, and the only word she caught was “everything.”

“Oh, okay...then I’ll leave you two to it, unless you need me to get her home?”

Waverly fidgeted with the sleeve of the uniform shirt for a moment, before stepping closer to Wynonna.

Nicole looked away as Waverly wrapped an arm around her sister, leading her to the counter.

“Sit,” Waverly sighed. “I’ll get you something too.”

Wynonna slid onto the barstool next to her with a soft, “thanks.”

Waverly rounded the counter, filling two large glasses with water and sitting them in front of both Wynonna and Nicole.

Nicole followed her movements as Waverly paused on her way to the kitchen.

“You’re something too Wynonna…” Waverly stated softly and Nicole’s stomach twisted at the vulnerability that clouded her hazel eyes, “...I just don’t know what yet.”

\--

“Wynonna said the work on the barn should be finished in another couple weeks.”

“Yeah?” Nicole asked, reaching for her beer.

A few months had passed since Wynonna had first shown up in Purgatory. Dinner once a week had turned into twice a week, until now with Wynonna and Doc spending most of their free time, when they weren’t working on the Homestead, in town.

“Yeah,” Waverly confirmed softly, pushing her barely touched plate aside before she reached for her glass of whiskey. She took a small sip before she added, “Doc should be able to move his business there full-time before the work is even finished.”

“That’s great,” Nicole replied, noting her girlfriend’s rigidness.

Though Nicole didn’t want to be the one to broach the subject, she wasn’t sure Waverly would on her own.

“Have you thought any more about Wynonna’s offer?”

Waverly bit her lip, eyes falling to the table, “A bit. And Wynonna actually asked me about it today.”

Nicole stood, unable to reach her girlfriend’s hands; though they were hidden from view under the table, Nicole knew they were likely twisting and fidgeting. Her suspicion was confirmed in two long strides when she moved to Waverly’s side of the table, extending a hand.

With only a moment’s pause, Waverly took it, shakily getting to her own feet. Nicole gently tugged her to the living room, leading them both to the couch. Even though Waverly immediately tucked herself neatly into Nicole’s side, Nicole could feel the nervousness in the way she held her body. Nicole wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her even closer and dropping a brief kiss to the top of her head.

“I haven’t seen it since I was a kid,” Waverly said simply, breaking the silence. “I barely remember what it even looks like.”

“We could go visit,” Nicole offered. “Spend a few days there while Doc and Wynonna are there.”

“I was thinking that…” Waverly trailed off, wringing her hands again.

Nicole waited, moving her thumb across the fabric of Waverly’s sweater, hoping the small gesture would help ground her girlfriend’s nervous thoughts.

“...what if...what if I do want to move there…someday?”

“Then we move,” Nicole shrugged. “Assuming you want me to come along.

Waverly turned, eyes narrowed, “But you have a job here.”

“I’m a mechanic. Believe it or not, cars break down outside of Purgatory,” Nicole shrugged again. “There’s a few shops not terribly far from where you said the homestead is and Dolls actually knows a guy that manages one of them.”

“You’ve thought about this?” Waverly asked, voice small as if she didn’t believe it.

“Of course.”

Waverly seemed to sag against her at those two words, her arms wrapping around Nicole’s middle.

“Where you go, I go,” Nicole breathed, with a gentle kiss to the top of Waverly’s head.

Instead of further easing her girlfriend, Waverly tensed again, her arms stiffening. 

“What if I decide I don’t want to go back there...what if it’s too much?”

“Then we go wherever you want,” Nicole replied simply. “The world’s a big place, believe it or not.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shameless Musing Warning: This fic bounced around my head for a good month before I wrote out the first chapter that initially posted as a one-shot, hoping to get it out of my head, and promptly deleting every record of it from my laptop. It didn’t work and I spent an absurd amount of time, that I maybe should’ve been working on grad school stuff, recovering the file. So it’s bizarre to me that, not only are we five chapters later, but that anyone has wanted it to continue for this long. 
> 
> Thank you to [@LuckyWantsToKnow](https://twitter.com/LuckyWantsTo) for not only all the wonderful beta-ing but being the biggest fan of this fic...and for not yelling at me when I said I wasn’t sure if it would have a happy ending somewhere around chapter 2 or 3. 
> 
> Come find me on twitter [@DubiousOrange17](https://twitter.com/dubiousorange17).

_—2 years later—_

Waverly hummed as she moved around the kitchen. Her lips automatically tugged up into a smile at the creak of the door opening followed by the familiar grating noise of boots dragging across the welcome mat.

She grabbed the plate in front of her and set it in at Nicole’s usual seat before turning for the coffee pot.

“Waves, this looks wonderful but I _can_ make my own lunch.”

Waverly turned back to the table to see Nicole leaning against the doorframe to the kitchen. Her eyes drifted to her wife’s strong arms, exposed by the rolled up sleeves of her work shirt.

As much as Waverly liked the steel blue color on Nicole, she was still accustomed to the gray uniform from when they first met; it didn’t matter that it had been over a year since Nicole first donned the new shirt, complete with a “Clifford” name patch.

“Sit,” she ordered, carrying a full mug of black coffee to the table. “Wait. You cleaned up?

Her eyes narrowed as the mechanic held up her hands, free from the oil and grime that usually covered them while she was at work

“Yes, ma’am.

“Good. Now sit. I miss seeing you every day on your lunch break so I decided to make one of your diner favorites."

It was true; she didn’t realize just how much she would miss that time with Nicole when they left Purgatory.

Nicole sat at the table, pulling out another chair in the process, “Are you going to join me or do you need to get back to your homework?”

“I thought I’d take a little break to catch up with my best baby,” Waverly  beamed, stealing an onion ring from Nicole’s plate before grabbing the salad she’d made for herself. “How was your morning?”

As she listened to Nicole recount the work she completed that morning between bites of her BLT, Waverly couldn’t tame her growing smile.

Though they lived together now, it seemed these simple moments with just the two of them were more and more elusive as time passed. It didn’t seem to matter that Wynonna lived with Doc in an apartment they built into the loft of the barn and that it was just the two of them in the house, her sister still managed to find the most inopportune moments to burst in.

Their time together was additionally stretched by Waverly commuting into the city three days a week as she pursued her bachelor’s degree. With Nicole and Wynonna’s support, she had earned her GED before they moved to the homestead and begun college classes a few months ago.

But Nicole working so close helped. Waverly’s smile grew a little as she thought about Nicole chuckling that she never thought she’d have such an easy commute, as the mechanic counted her steps between the door of the house to the barn.

Waverly hadn’t known it, but, in outfitting the barn for Doc’s business they had built in a shop so that maintenance work could be done on-site, and Doc and Wynonna had saved a mechanic’s job for Nicole. In some ways, Waverly was glad she was initially in the dark, because the idea of Wynonna and Nicole working together, even indirectly, might have been a deterrent to moving back to the homestead given their rocky start.

But now, the two’s...friendship might be a little bit of a stretch...maybe mutual respect was a more appropriate term, eased her mind on the days she drove into the city. She took solace in knowing Wynonna would ensure that Nicole didn’t work too late and that Nicole would check up on Wynonna and Doc if they were on the road, or make them dinner if they weren’t. And though neither would admit it, Waverly was certain Wynonna was the one who pushed Nicole into extending their honeymoon from one week to two.

“Which classes were you working on this morning?” Nicole asked, picking up the second half of her sandwich.

Waverly launched into telling her wife all about the reading she completed for her history class and how she was going to incorporate it into the mid-term assignment she was working on.

When she initially applied to colleges, the idea of spending all this time and money had felt frivolous. Especially since she didn’t know what she wanted to major in. How was she supposed to pick when everything seemed so intriguing?

She stood as Nicole popped the last bite of her sandwich into her mouth. Waverly whisked away Nicole’s empty plate and the mechanic drained the rest of her coffee.

“I should get back out there. Don’t want to be late for movie night,” Nicole winked as she pushed her chair back from the table. 

In their short time at the homestead, it had become their tradition on the nights they had the property to themselves. When Nicole finished up work and retreated to the shower, Waverly would break out the ancient hot air popper that Wynonna had salvaged from the barn before renovations. By the time Nicole made her way back downstairs, Waverly would have the popcorn ready and a movie queued up.

Waverly placed the plate in the sink and turned back toward her wife.

“Don’t work too hard,” Waverly smiled, as she reached for Nicole, taking her wife’s face in her hands.

“Don't let Wynonna and Doc hear that,” Nicole smirked, wrapping her arms around Waverly’s waist.

“That’s the best part, they’re not going to hear _a thing_ tonight.”

It was Waverly’s turn to smirk as her wife’s face flushed and she leaned in to place a chaste kiss on her lips.

“I’ll see you in a couple hours.”

Nicole nodded, reluctantly pulling back, “Thanks for lunch.”

“Anything for my best baby.”

\--

Waverly’s eyes moved back and forth, but not across the page of the open book in front of her. Instead, they darted between the first word of the top paragraph and the framed picture of her and Nicole on the corner of her desk. She typically didn’t have a problem getting through the required reading, but this afternoon, focus, at least on psychology, seemed to elude her.

With a huff, she gave up, closing the book and pulling the frame closer to her. A smile spread across her face, mirroring the wide one on Nicole that would be forever frozen in time. Her eyes raked across the photo from their wedding day, moving from her wife’s face to their connected hands. As vividly as she could on that day a few months ago, Waverly could still feel Nicole’s shaking hands under her own and see the awe reflected in those brown eyes looking back at her.

Her thumb ran across Nicole’s face before she returned the frame to its spot. Waverly half opened her textbook only to close it again and push away from the desk, intent on making some tea to get through the rest of her to-do list for the day.

She made her way to the kitchen, filling a kettle and turning a burner on high. While she waited for the water to boil she wandered through the hallway and living room, eyes drifting to the pictures of her and Nicole that adorned the walls.

It was one of those days where it was hard for Waverly to believe that they were here: not only together but married and living in her childhood home. It hadn’t been easy for either of them, getting to this place of understanding, trust, and love. As Waverly’s focus shifted to a collection of photos from their honeymoon in the dining room, it was even harder to grasp all that they had seen together.

Nicole hadn’t lied that the world was a big place. Bigger than Waverly ever imagined when she watched the scenery roll by from the windows of her father’s tractor-trailer. For their honeymoon, Nicole had surprised her with a trip to Europe so that they could see all the sights that had fascinated her the most when she was completing her GED coursework.

She heard the whistle of the kettle and lingered for one extra moment, taking in her favorite picture from the entire trip. Of all the ones around it, it appeared the least significant, the only one without a famous monument or building in the backdrop. It was just a generic selfie from the balcony of one of the hotels, with the sun fading into the horizon behind them.

Waverly walked away, with the image still burned in her eyes. Neither she nor Nicole were looking at the camera, as Waverly placed an impromptu kiss on the mechanic’s cheek. The orange glow of the sunset in the background seemed to pale in comparison to the radiance of her new wife, pure elation etched into each of Nicole’s features and the few lines on her face.

\--

At the sound of Nicole’s footsteps softly echoing down the stairs, Waverly grabbed the bowl off the counter and carried it to the living room. She sat it on the coffee table and plopped on the couch, pulling the blanket off the backrest in the process.

“What are we watching?” Nicole asked, grabbing a handful of popcorn as she collapsed onto the cushion next to Waverly.

“Cars,” Waverly replied, hitting play on the remote before leaning forward and pulling the bowl into her lap.

It wasn’t long before the popcorn was finished and the two were snuggled beneath the blanket. Waverly quickly lost focus on the movie with her wife’s warm body wrapped around her own. A laugh drew her attention to Nicole’s face.

Waverly twisted and leaned up, gently meeting her wife’s still smiling lips.

She lingered there, hand sliding up Nicole’s arm until she wrapped it around her wife’s neck, tipping Nicole’s head closer to her own.

Neither seemed willing to break the kiss until an ache in her neck from the awkward angle forced Waverly to pull back. She huffed, twisting and lifting herself to turn towards Nicole, her knees on either side of her wife’s hips and the blanket tangling around them. Waverly pushed her hair out of her face before she leaned in again.

Their lips moved at an unhurried pace, as minutes drifted by. The movie quickly became forgotten with their attention fully consumed by the slow kisses and  wandering hands. Waverly kissed a path to Nicole’s collarbone before either one of them finally spoke.

“Bed?” Nicole breathed, writhing slightly under the attention from Waverly’s lips.

Waverly nodded before pulling back and twisting toward the tv, moving off Nicole’s lap, “After the movie is...over.”

She took in the screen in front of her, eyes narrowing at the end of the credits, frozen on the screen.

Waverly turned back toward Nicole, watching a smirk grow on her wife’s face, “How did we miss all of it?”

“You know it happens every time,” Nicole replied, moving the blanket aside so she could stand.

“I know,” Waverly pouted, folding the blanket and setting it on the back of the couch. 

“If you wanted to watch, you shouldn’t have kissed me like that,” Nicole shrugged, still smirking.

“Oh really?” Waverly grinned, pushing off the couch and wrapping her arms around her wife’s neck. “You could’ve stopped it too.”

Nicole shook her head seriously, “I couldn’t even if I tried.”

“Well in that case,” Waverly added, a smirk of her own growing before she leaned up, tilting Nicole’s face closer to her own, and firmly connecting their lips once again.

The two stumbled up the stairs and to their bedroom, their lips only parting to shed shirts long before they crossed the threshold. Waverly navigated them toward the bed, pushing Nicole’s pajama pants past her hips before her long legs hit the edge of the mattress.

\--

Waverly eased into consciousness, the sensation of warmth surrounding her the first feeling she felt for the day. With her eyes still closed, she soaked it in, appreciating the comfort of Nicole’s skin draped over her own as they were both tangled in soft flannel sheets.

Instead of dreading the moment she would have to pry herself from this comfort and the cool air would shock her skin, as she often did on the mornings she had to drive to the city, she twisted to further burrow into Nicole. With a sigh, she settled only to feel her wife tug her impossibly closer and Nicole’s arms wrap around her more snugly.

Waverly smiled, inhaling the soothing vanilla scent that always lingered on Nicole, happy that today would just be a day for her and her wife. No homework. No work. 

She was on the cusp of giving in to the warmth that engulfed her, threatening to pull her back into sleep, when Nicole shifted again.

“Good morning,” her wife sleepily mumbled, trying to pull her even closer. “It’s too early. Don’t get up yet.”

Waverly smiled, placing a gentle kiss on her wife’s shoulder, “I’m not, go back to sleep, baby.”

Nicole seemed to settle at the words before tensing again, “Stay?”

Waverly’s heart broke at the vulnerability in her wife’s voice. It wasn’t often that Nicole’s insecurities from the early days of their relationship made their way to the surface but, when they did, it was in these disorienting, early morning hours. Waverly’s stomach twisted as she imagined all those mornings Nicole woke up alone in her apartment, the morning light cutting through the blinds to illuminate a cold bed while the wind howled outside.

“Always. I’ll _always_ stay, Nicole. Go back to sleep love.”

“Always,” Nicole echoed.

Though Waverly couldn’t see the mechanic’s face, she could hear a sleepy grin stretch across Nicole’s face from her tone alone.

The stiffness in her wife’s muscles melted away, and her breathing quickly slowed. Waverly smiled, allowing the steady rise and fall of Nicole’s chest to lull her back to sleep.


End file.
